Jumping at Shadows
by Cyclone
Summary: First contact between the United Earth Alliance and the Minbari Federation goes horribly wrong.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Jumping at Shadows (1/?)

Author: Cyclone

Feedback: Please be gentle.

Distribution: Gimme credit and a link.

Rating: Nothing worse than on the shows, except maybe language.

Spoilers: After the end of one and before the beginning of the other.

Disclaimer: The characters depicted herein belong to other people. I'm just borrowing them for a while.

Summary: First contact between the United Earth Alliance and the Minbari Federation goes horribly wrong.

Author's Note: Consider this a sort of AU to The Thin Grey Line. Not exactly, as I've changed how some of the technology interacts, but sort of.

* * *

><p><strong><strong>January 3, 2257<br>****

**Babylon 5**

The retired human commodore stood up on podium and waited for the noise to die down. This was it, the big moment. He looked out over the crowd. There were humans and aliens of all sorts, some species he knew, some he'd never met before, some he didn't even recognize, but that didn't matter. Or rather, that was the point.

"You probably know who I am," he began, "and you all know why we're here, why this station exists. Babylon Five is our last, best hope for peace, a neutral zone where diplomats can meet and talk in safety, so mistakes like the Earth-Minbari War do not happen again. I am here to remind you of those mistakes, how it happened, how that war started. Because I was there."

He let the crowd digest that for a moment.

"We - humans, that is - had gone nearly two hundred years without war - that mess with the Dilgar hardly counted - and it was even longer for the Minbari. In the end, that's how it all started, with a tragic misunderstanding on an epic scale. You see, we had fought and defeated the Children of Shadows, and we've been waiting for their masters to return... but so were the Minbari. My name is Michael Jankowski, and this... this is my story."

* * *

><p><strong>July 12, 2245<strong>

**Suspected border of Minbari space**

Four ships emerged from the jump point and began moving toward the suspected Minbari border at a cautious rate. The task force was small but potent: three Hyperion-class cruisers - the UES Amundsen; the aging class leader, UES Hyperion; and one of the new command variants, UES Prometheus - accompanied by the looming presence of a Nova-class dreadnought, the UES Norman Schwarzkopf, bristling with eight turreted synchro cannons alternating with ten double-barreled particle beam/laser cannon turrets. This was a recon mission, to probe the borders of Minbari space and, if possible, get a read on their military capabilities and disposition, but the United Earth Defense Force - or EarthForce for short - believed in preparing for the worst on any mission.

Humanity was paranoid, and their history had repeatedly borne out that paranoia.

"We're getting some readings on gravitics, sir. Profile suggests ships, heavily stealthed."

"I thought this area was supposed to be well outside the Minbari transfer points," murmured Captain (Capt) Michael Jankowski, commanding officer of the task force

"Yes, sir, it is," his XO, Commander (Cmdr) Alan Chafin said, nodding. "There's no reason they should be here."

"Unless they're looking for us."

"Well, there's a cheery thought."

"All ships, engage Shadow cloaks and take us in on an oblique angle, sensors on full," Michael ordered. "Engineering, be ready to execute an immediate fold." Intel indicated the Minbari used jump gates, so he felt confident that, if something unexpected happened, a fold would let them escape without pursuit.

"We're supposed to avoid first contact scenarios, sir," Alan reminded him.

"Are you suggesting the Minbari can penetrate a Shadow cloak, Commander?"

"No, sir."

"What have we got?" Michael asked quietly as the small task force approached the unidentified craft they had tentatively labeled as Minbari.

"Not much," his sensor operator said, shaking his head. "We're getting decent locks on optical and faint blips on gravitics, but we're getting nothing but sensor ghosts with everything else. They're running some pretty impressive active stealth systems." He paused. "Wait one. Their gun ports are open, sir."

"Recommend condition one," Alan said.

"Negative," Michael said, slicing his hand through the air horizontally. "They may not even have retractable guns. Set condition two."

"Sir, they just cranked up their scanners; we've completely lost everything on them except optical and gravitics. They see us." He paused. "Reading an EM spike!"

"Engineering to Bridge! We've got massive power spikes all across the board! Synchro cannon overloading! Engaging manual cutoffs!"

"Damn it!" Michael swore. "It's a disruptor wave! Sound battle stations, condition one! All ships, disengage all Shadow technology!" At that moment, he hesitated, the order to fold on the tip of his tongue, then closed his eyes in thought. His mind raced. If the Minbari - assuming these ships **were** Minbari - had disruptor technology, then the odds of them having fold drives with which to pursue had just markedly increased. It **could** be a mistake, a coincidence, something environmental... or it could be an unprovoked attack from an aggressive new enemy.

Possible diplomatic incident versus leading the enemy home? Maybe he should just open a comm line and talk? He was supposed to avoid first contact if possible, but that was obviously no longer an option, and first contact protocols dictated-...

A brilliant flash of light to his right interrupted his thoughts, and his eyes snapped open. His head whipped around, and he stared through the starboard viewing port at the expanding fireball that used to be a ship under his command.

"We just lost the Schwarzkopf!"

His expression darkened. Decision made. He didn't believe in coincidence, and they'd just taken out the task force's heavy hitter. The Schwarzkopf alone had had more firepower than the rest of the task force put together.

"All ships, open fire!"

* * *

><p><strong><strong><strong><strong>January 3, 2257<strong>******

**Babylon 5**

"I was wrong," Jankowski said quietly. "I was so... very, very wrong. And little did I know who was on one of those ships: the Minbari Grey Council."

* * *

><p><strong>July 12, 2245<strong>

**Valen'tha: Grey Council Chambers**

The hologram descended and coalesced around the Grey Council, and four blocky starships - inelegant, ugly designs - emerged out of the starscape.

"What is it?" Dukhat asked as he strode into the middle of the chamber.

"We detected these alien ships approaching our space," Satai Morann of the Warrior Caste answered. "Our sensors cannot track them."

"I've never seen those markings before," Dukhat said, approaching the holographic representations of the alien ships. "Who are they?"

"I believe they are the humans," Delenn offered.

"They appear to have made no effort to contact us," Morann said. "As is our custom, we approaching with gun ports open."

"By whose order?" Dukhat demanded.

"Master, that is the tradition of the Warrior Caste. A gesture of strength and respect. They can see our weapons. They can see we approach them open-handed."

Delenn and the rest of the Grey Council looked to Dukhat as he turned away from the hologram to Morann, but his next words would remain forever unsaid. Something bright flashed in the hologram from where the images of the human ships hovered, then the human ships opened fire. The hologram collapsed, and the Valen'tha shook, the impacts momentarily overcoming the inertial compensators as the impacts transmitted through the crystalline armor directly into the Valen'tha's hull beneath. A beam in the ceiling, old as the ship itself, shook loose at one end and swung down, striking the Minbari leader before he could speak.

Delenn dropped to her knees and cradled Dukhat's head in her lap. Within the sudden activity, she seemed to have been over looked. "Somebody help me! Help me!" she called out in a half-sob. _No!_ she thought. _It cannot end like this! You still have to lead us to victory against the Shadows!_

Dukhat struggled to speak, and she leaned down to listen, but his words were drowned out by the chaos surrounding them.

And then he slumped, eyes open and dead.

"Oh!" she cried in horror. Her world had shrunk to consist of herself and Dukhat, her mentor, lying dead in front of her.

"Delenn!" Morann's voice penetrated the haze of grief. "We need to strike back, but the Council is divided: Do we follow them back to their base and take revenge, or do we wait, try to find out what happened? Yours is the deciding vote, Delenn!"

"He was the best of us," she sobbed. "They struck without provocation. There was no reason. Animals! Brutal!" She looked up at Morann. "They deserve no mercy," she hissed she rose to her feet and approached the other Satai. "Strike them down!" she raged, beating ineffectually at Morann's chest. "Follow them to their bases! And kill all of them! **All** of them! No mercy!"

* * *

><p><strong>July 12, 2245<strong>

**UES Prometheus: Bridge**

"How bad is it?" Michael asked as the task force flew through jump space on a random vector, heading off the beacon network in what would be suicide for anyone without gravitic sensors and fold drives. He had revised the plan from the initial fold in order to detect and shake off any pursuit.

"Not too bad, sir," Alan replied. "They didn't get any decent hits until we took the Shadow cloaks offline, and the pinpoint barriers took care of those. Still, the Amundsen's reflex furnace is acting, quote, 'a bit twitchy'; they've shut it down and switched to fusion, just in case."

"Better than we had any right to hope for," Michael sighed. "They had us dead to rights, Alan. If it weren't for the cutoffs..." he shook his head. "Damn it, and we were so sure we'd patched that damned back door..." he muttered.

"Engineering to Bridge," that was the chief engineer, First Lieutenant (1Lt) Carla Rosamund, "got something you need to know, sir."

"Go ahead, Chief."

"That disruptor wave seems to be less effective than the Haydonite version, sir. Upon review, the effects were localized to the synchro cannon's power relays and bleedover to related systems; the Shadow cloaking device was not affected directly. Recommend you check with the Amundsen and Hyperion, see if they saw the same thing."

"Thank you, Chief," he said. He pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Captain, the last of our fans has turned back."

"Thank God," Michael said, relieved. He was beginning to wonder if the Minbari even needed the jump space beacons. "Open a jump point," he ordered. "We'll fold straight to Space Station Destiny. High Command needs to hear this."

* * *

><p><strong><strong><strong><strong>January 3, 2257<strong>******

**Babylon 5**

"It would be years before I learned of my mistake," Jankowski said, "a mistake which cost hundreds of thousands of lives, both human and Minbari."

One of the people present was Ambassador Delenn of the Minbari Federation. There was a time that simply being in the same room as **That Man** would have driven her into a rage, but now... now she understood. And she was so very **tired** of being angry.

She tried to stay focused, but her mind continued to wander.

* * *

><p><strong>July 14, 2245<strong>

**Valen'tha: Satai Delenn's quarters**

Delenn grieved.

Dukhat was the best of them, the greatest Minbari to live since Valen, destined - she had been certain - to lead them to victory against the Shadows... now cut down just as his true work was beginning.

The door chimed.

She ignored it, lost in her grief and rage. These barbarians, these... **humans**... were going to die, and at the moment, she didn't care. She couldn't - quite - take pleasure in their impending destruction, not for long. She had the vague feeling she should be ashamed, horrified at what her reckless vote was even now setting into motion, but she could not bring herself to care.

The door slid open.

"Satai?"

She turned and glared. "What do you want?"

"I have... I have the recordings of the battle for your review."

"Leave it," she ordered, her voice sounding harsh and dry even to her. When had she last had something to drink? Reluctantly, she rose to her feet in search of something to soothe her throat. She paused by the data crystal and picked it up.

_For my review?_ she thought bitterly. _I have no wish to see Dukhat's death again._ She barely resisted the urge to smash it against the bulkhead, instead tucking it away in a drawer.

It would sit in that drawer, forgotten, until many months - and thousands of lives - later.

* * *

><p><strong><strong><strong><strong>January 3, 2257<strong>******

**Babylon 5**

Delenn mentally shook herself out of her reverie. That had been a dark time, and it was behind them now.

"The mistake would go unnoticed not because there was a cover up," Jankowski was saying, "but because the misunderstanding was on a deeper level than we could imagine. My actions were investigated, dissected, and approved, but we only knew half the truth. We thought the Minbari had come to finish what the Haydonites had started."

* * *

><p><strong>July 28, 2245<strong>

**Earthdome, New York City: Courtroom**

"Will the defense and counsel please rise?"

There was a brief shuffle as he and his JAG attorney rose to their feet.

"Captain Jankowski," the presiding judge said, "while this hearing has determined you did technically disobey Standing Order One-One-Three-Eight, First Contact Protocol, by not attempting to communicate with the Minbari, given the circumstances, I am recommending this case not be referred to court-martial and a non-punitive letter of reprimand added to your file instead."

"Thank you, Your Honor."

* * *

><p><strong>August 19, 2245<strong>

**Earthdome, New York City: Fleet Admiral Robert Lefcourt's office**

Fleet Admiral (FAdm) Robert Lefcourt sighed, picked up the video phone, and dialed from memory. In moments, it made a connection, and he saw his old friend's face on the screen.

"Hey, Bob," David Sheridan greeted him. "What's up?"

"Orders just came down from Parliament, David," he said. "As of twenty-one-thirty Eastern time, we are officially at war with the Minbari Federation."

Sheridan's eyes dimmed. "Thanks for telling me yourself, Bob."

"I owe you that much," Lefcourt said. "The recall orders are going out as we speak."

"So... John..."

"Should be getting his within the hour. I'm sorry, David."

"We didn't start this fight, Bob," David said, leaving his favorite saying unfinished.

"No, we didn't," Lefcourt agreed, then finished, "but we will finish it."

* * *

><p><strong><strong><strong><strong>January 3, 2257<strong>******

**Babylon 5**

"Behind me," Jankowski said, "is a memorial to that mistake, a reminder of the how costly a misunderstanding can be. It's identical to one on Earth, in New York, and a third that I, on behalf of the United Earth Alliance, would now like to present to the Minbari ambassador to be placed in their capital." He held up the third memorial, a bronze plaque set against a crystal backing with a holoprojector and two sockets for data crystals embedded in it. One of the data crystal sockets was occupied, while the other remained empty.

Taking the obvious cue, Delenn rose and joined him on the podium. She accepted the memorial reverently.

"This data crystal contains the name of every human who died in the Earth-Minbari War," Jankowski explained, "and it is our hope that our counterparts in the Minbari Federation be willing to provide us with matching data crystals for the Minbari whose lives were lost in that war."

_How strange,_ Delenn thought. _Here we are, all these years later, we two who started the war, here to honor those fallen in it._ Shaking his hand, tentatively at first, she said, "Thank you. On behalf of the Minbari Federation, I accept this memorial. It will find its place in Yedor, and the names of those who parted this world in war will be united in peace."

* * *

><p>Author's Postscript:<p>

And yes, in this universe, Earthdome is in New York City. Why? Because it's the only major city canonically confirmed to survive the first three Robotech Wars structurally intact. Not to say that others didn't, but New York is the only one that's confirmed.


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Jumping at Shadows (2/?)

Author: Cyclone

Feedback: Please be gentle.

Distribution: Gimme credit and a link. Plus, archived at .net/u/62966 or .net/~cyclone

Rating: Nothing worse than on the shows, except maybe language.

Spoilers: After the end of one and before the beginning of the other.

Disclaimer: The characters depicted herein belong to other people. I'm just borrowing them for a while.

Summary: First contact between the United Earth Alliance and the Minbari Federation goes horribly wrong.

Author's Note: Consider this a sort of AU to The Thin Grey Line. Not exactly, as I've changed how some of the technology interacts, but sort of.

* * *

><p><strong>August 19, 2245<strong>

**Nochtal Station: Lounge**

Two men - one human, one Narn - were having drinks in the lounge on the resupply station which orbited Nochtal Prime.

"I'm telling you, Ak'Den," Capt Richard Hanson said, holding up his drink, "nothing beats a good shot of whiskey." Rick was the commanding officer of the UES Helios and the 92nd Border Patrol Flotilla.

Suddenly, a crewman burst into the room. "Captain!" he gasped. "Message... for you..."

"Whoa, calm down, Crewman," Rick said, rising to his feet as he set the shot glass down. "Since I don't hear the emergency alarms, whatever you have to say can wait a few seconds for you to catch your breath."

"Sorry, sir," the crewman - Anders, Rick noted - apologized after catching his breath. "We just received a Flash: Priority One message."

Rick accepted the message and read the warning within, along with the tactical assessment addendum.

"Who the hell are the Minbari?" he muttered.

Ak'Den's brow rose, and the Narn let out a low whistle. "You humans don't play by halves, do you? It might be best if I take my leave as soon as my cargo is unloaded."

Rick nodded absent-mindedly as he headed for the shuttle bay. He needed to get to his ship. "Alert all personnel," he called out. "Condition three."

The Spacy didn't have much of a fleet presence in Nochtal, just his 92nd: two Tyche-class cruisers in-system, a third out on sector patrol; half a dozen Olympus-class corvettes; and his flagship, UES Helios, a Hyperion-class heavy cruiser, long patrol variant. Unfortunately, the newer Tyche-class - essentially a stripped-down Hyperion developed after the Dilgar War demonstrated how overengineered EarthForce ships were - wasn't designed for open warfare. Though it could stand up to the Narns or Centauri on equal footing - and cheap enough that they could build five Tyches for the cost of one Hyperion - it didn't have many of the advanced robotech systems the Hyperion and Nova fielded, such as Shadow cloaks and pinpoint barriers.

"What's going on, sir?"

"We're at war," Rick said curtly. "Get everyone up to speed. And recall the Demeter!"

* * *

><p><strong>August 24, 2245<strong>

**UES Helios: Bridge**

"Captain, we've got a jump point forming."

Capt Hanson nodded. He had memorized the schedule; no ship was scheduled to arrive... but the Demeter hadn't returned yet. "Squawk IFF challenge. Is it the Demeter?"

"Negative, sir."

"Damn," he muttered. "What can you give me on those ships?"

"Picking up multiple contacts on gravitics: three heavy cruisers, half a dozen frigates, and a fighter screen. Other sensors are being jammed by some pretty powerful ECMs, sir, and we're too far for an optical lock."

"This just gets better and better," he grumbled. "Bridge to Engineering, how are the Shadow tech systems? Any sign of disruptor activity?"

"Negative, skipper. All systems normal."

Rick nodded again. So they were out of disruptor range. Or he hoped that's what that meant. "Guns, can you plot me a targeting solution with gravitics? Enough for a synchro shot?"

"Fifty-fifty's the best I can give you, sir."

"Do it," he said. "Sound battle stations across the flotilla, condition one. Task Force One, launch all fighters. Task Force Two, hold position."

Rick had divided his meager flotilla into two task forces: Task Force One - consisting of the three cruisers - was the anvil, while the six Olympus-class corvettes of Task Force Two were the hammer. In theory. This was a relatively even fight, as far as numbers were concerned, but corvettes just didn't stack up against frigates. Had they been Centauri or Narns, he wouldn't have been worried, but he had virtually no data on Minbari capabilities. If they were Minbari. The incoming ships' stealth systems were effective enough that the sensor reports weren't even giving his crew enough to confirm their identity. There was a small chance that this was another previously unknown species.

"Guns, how's that targeting solution coming?"

"Give me ten minutes, sir."

"And Task Force Two?"

"Ready to engage on your signal, sir."

"Comms, open a channel in the clear," he ordered. Then, he spoke his challenge in Interlac. "Attention approaching unidentified vessels, this is Captain Richard Hanson of the UES Helios. You have entered United Earth Alliance territory without authorization. Disengage your ECM and state your identity and business, or lethal force will be utilized. You have ten minutes to comply."

"No response, Captain; they're still coming."

"You'll have your ten minutes, Guns. Let's play chicken."

* * *

><p><strong>August 24, 2245<strong>

**UES Helios: Hangar Bay**

"All right, Talons, you heard the captain," 1Lt Valerie "Sapper" Yamamoto, commanding officer of Talon Squadron, called out as she ran to her fighter, vaulted into the cockpit, and strapped in. "Let's go!"

The VSA-23E Aurora Veritech Shadowfury was the deadliest single-pilot spacecraft in known space. The front half of the Aurora retained the profile of an atmospheric jet fighter, a role in which it served better than most transatmospheric fighters, but behind the wings were four maneuvering pylons which folded out for space flight. Powerful twin drive thrusters gave it excellent acceleration, and its maneuvering pylons - each with two powerful maneuvering thrusters, one pointed forward, the other back - gave it unprecedented agility. Its control interface was augmented by a thought control system based on the bioroids used by the Robotech Masters, and an automated micro-burst pinpoint barrier system made the Aurora virtually invulnerable to the first few hits before burning out. And that wasn't even considering the Shadow cloaks or their veritech nature.

Electromagnetic catapults hurled the Auroras toward the incoming enemy fleet. Sapper squinted, and the thought control interface picked up on her intent. The HUD zoomed in on the moving dots which represented the enemy fighters.

"Ugly little things, aren't they?" one of her pilots echoed her thoughts. It was Talon 26, Pilot First Class (PL1) Benjamin "Bingo" Gordon... the new guy. Bingo had transferred in just a few weeks ago to fill the hole left by PL1 John "Pinky" Sanders in Squad Two, Team Two - under Third Lieutenant (3Lt) Wilma "Wheels" Redmond - after Pinky fell and broke his leg.

"Yeah," Wheels agreed. "Looks like someone turned a bunchs of Gnerls bass-ackwards, then vomited all over them."

"Bingo, Wheels, cut the chatter," Sapper said. "Our orders are to hold fire until the cap-ships engage. Then we are to screen the enemy fighters and let the big boys duke it out." She smirked and added, "Of course, ships that size, it'll be hard **not** to hit them at least a few times."

There was a chorus of cheerful "ayes" in response.

"So, Switch," Sapper murmured on a private channel, "I'm reading about two dozen fighters for each cruiser. You concur?"

"I concur, Sapper," replied Technical Sergeant (TSgt) John "Switch" Blaisdell, the Talons' senior NCO and the third member of her command element besides herself and her XO. "Gives them... what? A two to one advantage?"

"Just about," she agreed. If their count was accurate, that put about seventy Minbari fighters against EarthForce's twenty-seven veritechs: fifteen in Talon Squadron and six in each of Brandywine and Trojan Squads, off the Dionysus and Ganymede, respectively.

"Hardly a fair fight, then," Switch bantered. "Think we should give 'em a chance to surrender?"

"That's the skipper's call, Switch."

* * *

><p><strong>August 24, 2245<strong>

**Ingata: Bridge**

"The humans are attempting to contact us in Interlac."

"Ignore them," Alyt Branmer said.

He watched as the human ships moved to intercept them. They stood their ground, no doubt about that, but was that true courage or the folly of pride? Did the humans underestimate them, perhaps? Did this upstart race - who, by all reports, had barely broken their home planet's orbit three hundred years ago - truly believe they could take on the Minbari, the eldest of the younger races?

It did not seem likely - either that they could or were foolish and arrogant enough to think they could... unless, as rumors suggested, the humans had backing from the Shadows - but they would test the humans' mettle soon enough.

And his own. A moment of doubt crossed his mind. This holy war was the only reason he had felt his calling change from Religious Caste to Warrior Caste. Until now, his studies of Valen's theories of war had been just that: theories. Now, he would be putting those theories to the test, leading the Minbari in their first true battle of this war against the humans.

The Grey Council had pronounced their judgment upon the humans nearly six weeks ago, moments after Dukhat's death, but the ships sent to pursue the human ships that had slain Dukhat had been forced to fall back when the humans suicidally went beyond the range of the hyperspace beacon network. It had taken this long merely to survey and reconnoiter this portion of the human border; indeed, this mission itself was a reconnaissance in force. Even now, the fleet was still assembling, the Alyts born to the Warrior Caste gathering the mighty fleets they would lead. Thousands of ships built over the centuries in preparation for the next Shadow War were now being recommissioned.

* * *

><p><strong>August 24, 2245<strong>

**Narn freighter Dere'Kot: Bridge**

The Narn had never encountered the Minbari, but they knew the Centauri feared them. Only a fool crossed the Minbari, and Ak'Den was no fool.

Still, Rick was a friend. The least he could do was watch his last moments. Which was why the Dere'Kot was lingering at the edge of the Nochtal system rather than racing back to Narn space as fast as possible.

He watched as the three Minbari war cruisers and six frigates approached Nochtal Station, and the three human cruisers raced to greet them. Even if the odds were reversed, Ak'Den doubted the humans would win.

He frowned.

_Wait a minute,_ he thought. _Where are the corvettes?_

The question was wiped from his mind when the Helios opened fire, sending a coruscating beam of destruction out into the Minbari formation. The shot was slightly off-target, and the Minbari captain had an excellent reaction time; the war cruiser was already maneuvering when the beam lanced out. The beam smashed through one of the frigates, coring it mercilessly, and barely grazed the cruiser. Crystalline armor optimized against energy weapons, designed to give the Minbari a scant few seconds' protection against the energy weapons of First Ones like the Shadows yet strong enough to shrug off all but the most powerful kinetic weapons, melted and cracked... but did not shatter. Still, the damage was enough, and the cruiser began maneuvering away from the battle.

It was at that point that he got the answer to his question, as thrusters flared, lighting up on the sensor board as four of the corvettes charged into battle, cannons blazing ineffectually at extreme range. However, the other two, while still at range, had clean shots at the Minbari's left flank, which they fired upon mercilessly, but most of their shots went wide.

The Minbari response, however, was swift and deadly. Neutron lasers lanced out, effortlessly slicing the corvettes to pieces before they scored more than a few hits.

* * *

><p><strong>August 24, 2245<strong>

**UES Helios: Bridge**

"Engineering to Bridge, power spikes in the synchro cannon relays. Shutting it down. Shadow cloak is stable."

Capt Hanson, however, was too distracted to respond. "God in heaven," he swore as he watched the Dionysus gutted like a Thanksgiving turkey before they were even in range for an optical lock. Layers of ablative ceramic plating and slabs of robotech alloys accounted for almost nothing. The fighters were doing better - much better - but they didn't have any reflex missiles or nukes, not for a border security flotilla. "Guns, give me something. **Anything!**"

"No can do, sir. All we've got's gravitics and optical. Gravitics are fluctuating too much to lock on, and optical's for crap at this range!"

The ship shuddered again as the pinpoint barriers fended off another lethal attack.

"So **guess!**" he snapped. "What about missiles?"

"We don't have any anti-ship missiles, sir."

"I don't care!" he snapped. The warheads would be low-yield, but they could do some damage. The bigger problem was that they didn't have the hardware to target something as large as a capital ship. "Set them up for randomized flight paths, contact detonation, then launch everything."

"Aye, Captain!"

* * *

><p><strong>August 24, 2245<strong>

**Talon 01**

Sapper heaved her Aurora around and reconfigured. The main thrusters swung down to form legs, and the maneuvering pylons shifted into a backpack, while arms and a sensor head unfolded from within. Clutched in the right hand was a particle beam gun pod with a mounted bayonet. She spun her battloid around and grappled the passing Minbari fighter, plunging her monomolecular bayonet into its cockpit before spinning around and using it to shield herself from its wingman's vengeance. Shifting her battloid's grip on the dead fighter, she aimed and fired, holing the other Minbari fighter and sending it into a ballistic arc out of the furball.

"Scratch two more," she murmured with satisfaction. They had already unloaded their missiles, optically-guided, and scored some early kills, but with their missile racks empty, it had quickly turned into a nasty dogfight. Minbari stealth, it seemed, was equal to Shadow cloaking.

Fortunately, the Minbari didn't seem to have veritechs.

Suddenly, alarms blared in her cockpit, breaking through the alpha haze that came over any pilot who was fully synchronized with his or her veritech. She checked her sensors for what the alarm was warning her of, and her eyes widened as she realized the Helios and Ganymede had each unleashed their entire payload of missiles. Hundreds of light anti-mecha missiles streaked out, their paths intertwining as they raced erratically toward the Minbari ships.

The Minbari quickly moved to evade. Most of the missiles flew past them harmlessly, and dozens were shot down by the Minbari's point defenses, but dozens more still hit their mark, destroying one of the frigates and damaging another. Transforming back into fighter mode, she locked onto the wounded Minbari frigate with her optical sensors. "Talons, on me!" she ordered. "Let's finish it off!"

She sped toward her chosen target, the handful of other surviving Talons falling in behind her; they had taken heavy losses, and if anyone from Brandywine or Trojan were still alive, Sapper was too busy to check on them. Together, they oriented for a strafing run on the damaged sections of their target, where the Helios's missiles had struck moments ago. Particle beams spat out, ripping into delicate systems within, and within moments, something within the frigate cooked off. The shockwave easily caught up to her fighter, however, and then darkness claimed her.

* * *

><p>Author's Postscript:<p>

And so it begins. Both sides are effectively in eggshells armed with sledgehammers. Blind eggshells armed with sledgehammers.


	3. Chapter 3

Title: Jumping at Shadows (3/?)

Author: Cyclone

Feedback: Please be gentle.

Distribution: Gimme credit and a link.

Rating: Nothing worse than on the shows, except maybe language.

Spoilers: After the end of one and before the beginning of the other.

Disclaimer: The characters depicted herein belong to other people. I'm just borrowing them for a while.

Summary: First contact between the United Earth Alliance and the Minbari Federation goes horribly wrong.

Author's Note: Consider this a sort of AU to The Thin Grey Line. Not exactly, as I've changed how some of the technology interacts, but sort of.

* * *

><p><strong>August 24, 2245<strong>

**UES Helios: Bridge**

Rick Hanson almost felt like cheering when he saw the Minbari frigate detonate from the fighters' attack run, but reality quickly settled in.

_Only took out two frigates,_ he thought grimly. _Not good._ The last time humanity had faced an enemy that could take them on in a fair fight had been a couple of centuries ago. If it hadn't been for his own flagship's Shadow cloak, they'd probably be dead already.

It was just a technicality at this point, though. Their missile banks were empty, the Ganymede had been cut to pieces moments ago, the last explosion had shattered the surviving fighters' coordination, and the surviving Minbari fighters were striking back with a vengeance. The Helios had taken some damage, her interceptors and pinpoint barriers unable to cope with the sheer volume of fire and ever-shortening range. Even though the Minbari seemed to miss more often than not, as the range closed, their targeting grew more accurate, much like theirs had as they entered optical tracking range... and the Helios was still facing three to one odds.

"Captain, we've got a jump point opening. It's the Demeter!"

"Damn it!" he swore. "Tell them to get the hell out of here. They can't help us now."

"No go, sir. Demeter's still vectoring to intercept."

"Comms, open a channel," he ordered. "Alex, what the **hell** do you think you're doing?"

"Sorry, sir," Cmdr Alexander Brodski apologized, "but we're just as dead as you are. I'm not leading these bastards back to one of our colonies."

"Stop being stupid, Alex. Go anywhere **but** one of the colonies. Someone has to tell High Command what happened here. Comms, send the Demeter all sensor logs of the battle."

"Aye, sir."

"But, sir-!" Alex protested.

"Go tell the Spartans, Commander. That's an order." Cutting the comm line, he turned to his bridge crew. "Helm, plot a collision course with the nearest Minbari cruiser, all ahead flank. Guns, target that cruiser with everything we have, override the safeties."

"...Aye, sir. Going out with a bang."

Rick smiled in resignation as the cruiser that the helmsman had chosen began to grow larger rather quickly. At least if they were going down, they were going to take another few with them.

The thought of surrender never crossed his mind. The Zentraedi, the Robotech Masters, the Invid, the Haydonites, the Dilgar... surrender had never been an option, not with any of them. Why would it be any different with the Minbari?

* * *

><p><strong>August 24, 2245<strong>

**Ingata: Bridge**

Branmer was impressed.

He watched as the Ingata's neutron lasers disabled the last human vessel with surgical precision as it flew through the debris field that had moments ago been a Sharlin war cruiser, shot to pieces at point-blank range by the human heavy cruiser. One Sharlin war cruiser and two Tinashi frigates destroyed, another of each damaged so badly that they had to withdraw. The humans had fought valiantly, and their weapons were deadly. This last cruiser itself also appeared to possess advanced stealth technology, advanced enough to defeat Minbari sensors. Perhaps a prototype?

"Hold fire and prepare a boarding mission," he ordered. "I want prisoners."

"Yes, Alyt."

"And what of the other vessel?"

"The cowards have fled into hyperspace."

Branmer silently disagreed with the accusation of cowardice. The late arrival had attempted to join the fight before turning away and opening a jump point. Those were not the actions of a coward; they were the actions of an eager but obedient warrior.

* * *

><p><strong>August 24, 2245<strong>

**UES Helios: Bridge**

Rick gritted his teeth. The last series of attacks had disrupted the ship's artificial gravity for a moment. As per combat protocol, he was safely strapped into his seat, and almost all loose debris was tied down, but nothing was perfect, and the perceived motion sent his stomach shooting up into his throat.

"Engineering, can we fold?"

"No go, skipper. They cut the fold drive in half with that last shot."

"Damn it! What about the jump drive?"

"The Minbari are jamming it somehow, skipper. We're working on it as fast as we can."

"Work faster."

"Captain, reading multiple smaller contacts incoming; they look like shuttles."

"All hands!" he ordered on the shipwide. "Prepare to repel boarders! Initiate Code Sherman protocols!"

The crew should already be suited up in combat-rated environmental suits, but only the officers were regularly armed aboard ship. The bridge crew responded immediately to his order, entering commands to purge the ship's computers of all sensitive data and remotely unlock weapons lockers spread throughout the ship. Other crewmen would be arming specific charges to destroy the more sensitive classified technology: the interceptors, the pinpoint barrier system, the Shadow cloaking device, the synchro cannon mechanisms, and the fold drive. They weren't ready to scuttle the ship just yet. If they were lucky, they might be able to fight them off long enough to repair some of the thrusters, overcome whatever was disabling the jump drive, open a jump point, and limp to Jericho through jump space. It was a slim chance, but better than none at all.

For his part, Rick unstrapped himself from his seat, then unsnapped his holster and drew his particle beam gun. The variable-yield PBG was the latest incarnation of the Gallant. On its lowest setting, it could burn down a person without piercing a bulkhead; on its highest with the optional rifle stock, it could pierce light vehicle armor.

* * *

><p><strong>August 24, 2245<strong>

**Minbari Flyer**

Kadenn gave his fusion rifle another quick once-over as the flyer approached the crippled human vessel. A part of him wondered why Alyt Branmer had demanded prisoners. Were they not on a holy war to exterminate the species? Still, understanding was not required, only obedience.

There was a dull crump followed by a momentary hiss as the flyer made contact with the crippled human vessel, fired shaped charges to pierce the hull, then established a seal. In moments, the hatch opened... revealing another layer of armor before them.

"It appears these humans build their ships with very thick hulls," Dahal muttered. An actinic flare lit the interior as he fired up the cutting torch.

* * *

><p><strong>August 24, 2245<strong>

**UES Helios: Outer corridor**

According to her DIs, Private First Class (PFC) Ashley Sumner was a talented Marine with the drive and potential to go very far in the Corps. Not that she knew that. All she knew was that she missed home, she missed her parents and her big brother, she missed her mom's homemade cherry pie, she missed her dog (a Jack Russel terrier named Scoop), and she was abso-f*cking-lutely terrified as she watched the sparks emerge from the outer bulkhead as the Minbari boarding party slowly cut their way through.

She was crouched down with the rest of her fire team behind a half-closed doorway which served to provide cover. The sarge and his team was on the opposite end of the hallway. Once the Minbari breached, they'd be caught in a deadily crossfire. Unlike the Spacy personnel who wore combat-rated environmental suits, the Marines were wearing full tactical combat armor, layers of ballistic weave "smart cloth" armor over a compact environmental suit, augmented by clam-shell style sections of plastic-ceramic composite. It wasn't designed to interface with Cyclones like CVR, but was stronger for it. In her hands, she held a PBG in a submachine gun configuration.

Suddenly, the cutting stopped.

Part of her screamed, and it transferred to her mouth.

"DOWN!"

* * *

><p><strong>August 24, 2245<strong>

**Minbari Flyer**

Dahal fitted the breaching charge into place. The human ship's hull armor had been sufficiently weakened that the new breaching charge should be sufficient. He stepped back and sealed the Minbari Flyer's hatch again, shielding them from the impending blast, then detonated the shaped charge.

He opened the hatch again and dropped through.

* * *

><p><strong>August 24, 2245<strong>

**UES Helios: Outer corridor**

Through the smoke and dust of the explosion, Ash caught sight of a shadow that seemed to have a bit more mass than the rest. On instinct, she fired. The Minbari pointman collapsed, but soon there were more, and the corridor was filled with flashing light as particle beams dueled with fusion blasts.

She was certain she had scored three more kills before she suddenly found herself face to face with one of the Minbari. She stepped back in surprise, bringing her PBG up, but he moved faster - inhumanly fast - and knocked the weapon from her hands. Reflexes honed during basic went into overdrive, and she lashed out at him, attacking with fists, feet, and elbows.

Kadenn was impressed by the little human female. She was skilled, but her strength and speed was no match for a Minbari warrior. He drew his denn'bok and activated it, then swung and struck her down. The first blow caught her in the side, just below the hard armor she wore; the "smart cloth" compound the ballistic weave was treated with stiffened from the impact, cushioning the blow. The second blow cracked her helmet visor, briefly blinding her as her HMD went haywire before shutting down, and the third snapped her neck. She had fought well and honorably; it was only fair to give her a warrior's death by a warrior's weapon.

He blinked in surprise when pain filtered up to him. Looking down, he saw the hilt of her combat knife, the blade buried in his side. He swayed against the bulkhead, slowly sliding to the deck.

* * *

><p><strong>August 24, 2245<strong>

**UES Helios: Bridge**

"Hanson to Engineering," Rick said, this time over his environmental suit's helmet comm. "Status report on Code Sherman protocols?"

"All critical systems confirmed destroyed, Captain."

"Good," he said as the door to the bridge blew open, "because we just ran out of time!" Crouched behind his command chair, he opened fire. The rest of his bridge crew had already taken cover behind their consoles, but the battle was decided before the first shot was fired.

They were Spacy officers, not front-line soldiers. And they were facing Minbari warriors, the ones skilled enough to survive fighting through the MARDET and remain in fighting condition. They put up a good fight, but they didn't stand a chance.

* * *

><p><strong>August 24, 2245<strong>

**Linsara: Medical bay**

Kadenn was surprised at how many bodies lay in the medical bay. He was vaguely horrified at how many lay still and without breath in the stillness of death. He himself was injured, severely but not mortally so. Had the blade entered a half-inch to the right, however...

His distracted thoughts broke off as the healer picked up the human blade.

"Wait," he said. "Where are you taking that?"

"To dispose of," the healer answered. Kadenn was not surprised. The healer was Religious Caste and would not understand.

"Leave it," he said. "That is the weapon of a warrior. It deserves to be honored as such."

* * *

><p><strong>August 25, 2245<strong>

**UES Demeter: Bridge**

Alex Brodski sighed as he reviewed the sensor logs his ship had received from the Helios. With the route they were taking, skirting along the edges of Centauri and Narn territory, it would be about four days before they reached Jericho, so he figured he might as well spend that time on something useful. Working up a report to High Command was not high on the list of things he wanted to do, but it had to be done.

As he reviewed the data, his expression darkened. _God damned politicians,_ he thought angrily.

The Helios had given as good as she got, but the Dionysus and Ganymede had been gutted, and the corvettes hadn't even managed to do any serious damage. If it hadn't been for the beancounters back on Mars, they might not have lost Nochtal Station.

* * *

><p><strong>August 27, 2245<strong>

**Narn freighter Dere'Kot: Cargo bay**

Sapper stirred, surprised to be alive. She let out an involuntary groan as she cracked her eyes open and sat up.

"Ah, you're awake, Lieutenant... Yamamoto, was it?"

Her head whipped around as her hands came up defensively on reflex. "Sapper," she corrected, eyeing the Narn trader warily. She'd met the Narn on Nochtal Station a few times; he ran this route regularly and was the skipper's drinking buddy.

"Ah. Yes. Of course."

"What happened?"

"You lost," was the concise response. "But you survived. Your fighter was badly damaged. If the Minbari had lingered, you would most assuredly have asphyxiated to death," he gave a smirk, "but it appears they were in a great hurry for some reason."

"What the hell are you implying?"

"You hurt them, Sapper," Ak'Den said soberly. "You hurt them badly."

"So?" she retorted. "They were looking for a fight."

"No," the Narn shook his head. "No, I very much doubt they were. I know my history, Lieutenant, and it's been a very long time since someone stood up to the Minbari, not since they drove the Garmak to the brink of extinction. Not us, not the Orieni, not the Dilgar, none of the League worlds, not even the Centauri. To fight them and actually hurt them? To destroy one of their cruisers in open battle? I would imagine it's been even longer."

* * *

><p><strong>August 27, 2245<strong>

**Drala Fi: Command chamber**

"The humans and their technology are quite dangerous, Shai Alyt," the hologram of Alyt Branmer reported.

"Perhaps," Shai Alyt Aeraan said, stopping just short of sneering at Branmer. "But perhaps, Alyt, your first calling is holding you back." The accusation remained unspoken. Although the humans had been crushed, it was still a great loss, for one of the human ships had escaped, and they had lost a cruiser on the field of battle, something that hadn't happened since the last great Shadow War a thousand years ago. To lose one to a ship which was by then outnumbered three to one? Unthinkable! The humans had to be supported by First Ones. Not the Vorlons, for the Minbari were the Vorlons' chosen, but someone else.

The truth pointed to itself.

"They should not be underestimated, Shai Alyt," Branmer said evenly, refusing to give the Wind Sword Shai Alyt the satisfaction of seeing him react to the implied insult. "I have sent you the data on the battle. Perhaps it will allow you to better prepare for them."

"Hmm, perhaps," Aeraan said dismissively, his thoughts on other matters. "Perhaps these humans are servants of the Shadows, Branmer. Perhaps **this** is the great war Valen warned us of."

Branmer frowned, but held his tongue. Instead, he asked, "Do you wish to interrogate the prisoners?"

Aeraan snorted. "Do with them as you wish, Alyt. I doubt they have anything to say I wish to hear. Turn whatever's left of their ship to the Worker Caste. Perhaps they will garner something of use out of the wreckage."

"Yes, Shai Alyt."

* * *

><p><strong>August 29, 2245<strong>

**Space Station Joshua: Command deck**

Commodore (Cdre) Estella Blake, commanding officer of the Jericho Colony Task Force, accepted the news grimly. "We lost the whole flotilla?"

"Yes, ma'am," Cmdr Brodski replied. "The flotilla took out one of their heavy cruisers and two frigates and damaged one more of each."

Stella ran the numbers in her head. On an even footing, the 92nd had only taken out a third of the enemy forces. Militarily, it was a disaster. It had been centuries since the Spacy had lost a battle so lopsidedly.

Of course, while Jericho was a new colony and didn't have any of the major defenses the older colonies had, it was still much better defended than a mere resupply station like Nochtal. When the war declaration came out, they had also received further reinforcements in the form of a pair of Nova-class dreadnoughts.

With the two dreadnoughts, six Hyperion-class heavy cruisers, and twelve - thirteen, counting the newly-arrived Demeter - Tyche-class cruisers, along with screening elements and the fixed defenses, Jericho would be a much tougher nut to crack. Based on Brodski's brief report, she estimated they could probably stand an even fight against as many as eight or nine Minbari heavy cruisers and their support ships.

"Begin evacuating the civilians," she ordered. "Demeter, join up with Hunter Group One; you'll be escorting the evacuees. I want you and that intel out with the first group, understand?"

The hunter groups consisted of three Tyche-class cruisers each, tasked with the job of hunting down and clearing this sector of the raiders of all species that infested unclaimed space.

"Aye, ma'am," Brodski acknowledged grudgingly.

* * *

><p>Author's Postscript:<p>

As you can see, both sides have rather different interpretations of how the battle went.


	4. Chapter 4

Title: Jumping at Shadows (4/?)

Author: Cyclone

Feedback: Please be gentle.

Distribution: Gimme credit and a link.

Rating: Nothing worse than on the shows, except maybe language.

Spoilers: After the end of one and before the beginning of the other.

Disclaimer: The characters depicted herein belong to other people. I'm just borrowing them for a while.

Summary: First contact between the United Earth Alliance and the Minbari Federation goes horribly wrong.

Author's Note: If I gave my chapters titles, the title of this chapter would be "Symmetry."

* * *

><p><strong>September 2, 2245<strong>

**Earthdome, New York City: Ministry of Foreign Affairs Office**

"You did **whaaat?**" the Centauri ambassador, one Londo Mollari, sputtered, staring in incredulity. "I don't believe this," he continued, shaking his head. "I go to the homeworld for a few weeks, and for some reason, in that time, your entire species decides to commit mass suicide? Have you all gone **insane** while I was away?"

"With all due respect, Ambassador," Foreign Minister Salan Jameson interjected, "the Minbari attacked first." Salan didn't paint the picture of a Zentraedi at all - he was a short, rotund man, but with razor sharp instincts for politics and diplomacy - but his parents had been enthusiastic members of the Retro Zentraedi movement forty years ago.

"I find that very hard to believe," Londo disagreed, shaking his head. "They are an insular people. Leave them alone, and they will leave you alone."

"Whether or not you believe it is irrelevant, Ambassador," Salan said, running a hand through his sandy blond hair. "All the reports and computer logs support it; they destroyed one of our ships and killed a thousand of our people without provocation. Our course is set, and since the initial incident, they've also attacked one of our border resupply outposts."

"The Centauri Republic cannot support you in this war, you realize that," Londo pointed out. "You are doomed."

"All we're asking for, Ambassador," Salan assured him, "is any linguistic or navigational data your people may have. We'd like to talk to the Minbari, if at all possible, and maybe find out why they attacked us."

"You mean you don't even know **why?**"

"If we did, we'd either have been on a war footing long before now, or we would be talking it out," Salan said dryly. "As it is, we have our suspicions." The minister took a moment and stood up, walking to the window and leaning on the sill. "We're now at war with a mysterious alien race we know very little about," he said quietly, "one which is wielding a technology we have only previously seen used by the Haydonites, the so-called Children of Shadows." He turned to face the Centauri ambassador. "Here's the thing, Ambassador Mollari. We've talked to the Invid, and we're now pretty sure that 'Children of Shadows' was not as metaphorical as we had previously thought."

"So," Londo leaned back in his seat, "you believe the Minbari are allies of these... Shadows?"

"We're not sure," Salan answered, leaning back against the window sill and folding his arms, "which goes back to why we'd like to have the language and nav data we're asking for. It's not an unreasonable request."

"I will see what I can do," Londo relented. He held up an emphatic finger. "No promises! You have awakened a sleeping giant, one which will crush you beneath its feet, and we would rather not draw its ire."

* * *

><p><strong>September 5, 2245<strong>

**Space Station Joshua: Command deck**

"Got another jump point, ma'am, out on the rim, just like before."

Stella glared at the viewport, willing death and destruction upon the Minbari scout ship that was almost certainly lurking out on the edge of the system. The jump points had been opening repeatedly for the past week, but they were brief, and no matter how she adjusted the patrol patterns, the Minbari always managed to slip away before they could force a confrontation. They just didn't have enough ships to properly cover the system without leaving the ships vulnerable to being picked off piecemeal. It was spooky. It was nerve-wracking.

It was pissing her the hell off.

"Commodore," the sensor operator, Jackson, spun his chair around. "Task Group Two's just five minutes away; they're moving to intercept."

"Yesss!" she hissed, thumping her console. It was time they got a good look at the enemy.

* * *

><p><strong>September 5, 2245<strong>

**Hyperion-class heavy cruiser UES Tennyson: Bridge**

Cmdr Clive Greene's eyes were fixed on the forward viewscreen, which showed nothing but empty space, so far as he could see. Off to port, the UES Frost paced his ship. His gaze flicked down to his command console, which showed nothing but a very faint ghost on gravimetrics, and he frowned. "Can't we get a better fix on that thing?"

"Sorry, skipper, no can do. This is the best we're gonna get. Bringing the hi-res camera on-screen. It's definitely Minbari, looks like the boarding shuttles the Demeter reported."

"Understood," Clive nodded. "Doesn't look like they've spotted us, though. Let's see if we can take it intact, get something for the lab boys on Earth to play around with. Launch fighters."

The Tennyson was a standard Hyperion-class cruiser, with a smaller fighter bay than the long patrol variant, and therefore only carried a short squad of nine veritechs, which now flew toward the unsuspecting Minbari scout.

* * *

><p><strong>September 5, 2245<strong>

**Drala Fi: Command chamber**

Shai Alyt Aeraan of the Wind Swords frowned. The Minbari flyer should have signaled them to open the jump point by now. Something was wrong. Very wrong.

As if the earlier scouting trips hadn't been proof enough of that.

He had initially agreed with Branmer's speculation of the Earth ship being some sort of prototype, out on a field test, but he was now seeing evidence otherwise: multiple ships with the advanced stealth were defending a small colony as it was being evacuated, barely identified at long-range by high-resolution telescopic cameras. It was... disquieting.

He considered opening the jump point now and seeing for himself what had caused the flyer's delay... but he was not a fool. For all he knew, an ambush could be waiting for them in normal space, and they would never know, for tachyons were the only emissions that crossed between normal space and hyperspace.

While Drala Fi was the finest command cruiser in the entire Federation, the crew top-notch, and there were few out there who could challenge even the least of the Minbari cruisers, they were not invulnerable, as the humans had already proven. Here in hyperspace, they were hidden and safe; not even the humans could be foolish enough to engage in hyperspace, where the gravitic maelstrom could send a ship's own weapons fire right back at it.

Time ticked past in silence as they waited apprehensively.

"We have waited long enough," he said finally. "Let us depart."

* * *

><p><strong>September 5, 2245<strong>

**UES Tennyson, Hangar Bay**

"On the double, Marines! Move it, move it, move it!"

Two squads of Marines trooped into the hangar bay, PBG rifles at the ready. The Minbari scout ship towed in by the veritechs was sporting a noticeable hole, punched clean through by one of the veritechs' destabilizer cannons. Taking a moment to maneuver some crates as cover, one squad hunkered down, giving themselves clear lines of fire on the crippled Minbari craft while the other squad carefully advanced toward it.

Their orders were clear: If it did anything other than 'nothing,' they were to turn it to scrap. Being Marines, they liked these orders.

Once the covering team was in position, the lead team breached the Minbari scout ship. Moments passed.

"CORPSMAN!" The support squad of Marines tensed, until the sergeant clarified, "We have a medical emergency. Repeat, medical emergency. Two... uh... prisoners. One badly burned, probably dead, the other unconscious."

The corpsmen ran in, fully aware that the Marines had not moved their weapons so much as an inch.

* * *

><p><strong>September 8, 2245<strong>

**Ingata: Holding cell**

Captain Richard Hanson's head shot up as the door slid open. He cocked a curious eyebrow at the Minbari who entered, flanked by two guards. He didn't recognize his newest visitor.

"I am Shai Alyt Aeraan," the Minbari identified himself imperiously. "You will answer my questions."

Rick met his gaze and resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He could feel the impassive mask slide over his face. "Richard Hanson. Captain. Five one four seven zero one nine four four zero five seven."

Name, rank, serial number. It was all these boneheads - and boy, did they deserve that name! - had gotten out of him, and it was driving them to distraction. They didn't even seem to understand what his serial number **was**. It was just too entertaining for him to spoil it. He almost wished they'd bring in a telepath just so he could mess with them some more. All UEDF personnel were trained to confuse surface scans, and he was an R-1 (Resistant, First Class), with the talent and training to block deep scans.

"Your ship," Aeraan said. "It possessed advanced stealth. Tell me, how many of your people's ships have that technology?"

"Richard Hanson. Captain. Five one four seven zero one nine four four zero five seven," Rick repeated. That had to be one of the most idiotic questions he had heard. How was **he** supposed to know how many EarthForce ships had Shadow cloaks?

"How many?" Aeraan demanded. "A dozen? A hundred?** How many? !**"

Rick stared back at his Minbari captors and then did something they did not expect. He began to laugh. It started as a low, sinister chuckle, but quickly grew to a great booming laugh. After a long moment, he looked at them, shaking his head.

"You have no goddamned idea what you're facing, do you?" he taunted. "You thought you took out... what? Some sort of top secret prototype task force? My command was a border patrol: our cheapest, our weakest, our most primitive ships, and a fraction of the size of one of our main fleets. And even if you beat the Spacy..." he snickered, "...the grand cannons will eat you for lunch. You won't even survive long enough to face the Army or Marines."

"Good, so you **can** say something else. Now answer my question."

"Richard Hanson. Captain. Five one four seven zero one nine four four zero five seven," Rick repeated, though this time there was an almost smug tone to his voice.

Aeraan glowered.

* * *

><p><strong>September 8, 2245<strong>

**Ingata: Corridor**

"So, Shai Alyt," Branmer broached, "did you learn what you were seeking?"

"No," Aeraan spat. "He continues to spout that numerical nonsense. What does it **mean?**"

"We do not know," the Star Rider admitted. "We have been analyzing the numbers using every decryption protocol we have records of, but it appears to be nothing but gibberish."

The Shai Alyt grunted in annoyance.

"Do you wish to interrogate the other prisoners?"

"No," Aeraan said, shaking his head. "I have a more... forthcoming source in mind."

* * *

><p><strong>September 9, 2245<strong>

**Undisclosed location: Holding cell**

Her name was Jha'dur, and her world had ended years ago. She knew her people were dead; it had been inevitable. She had been a "guest" of the Wind Swords clan for over fifteen years, since before her people's end came, but she had seen the writing on the wall. EarthForce had charged in to defend the League of Non-Aligned Worlds like an unstoppable glacier, and the Dilgar Imperium's mightiest fleets had broken upon them like water before the bow of an ocean-going vessel.

Oh, EarthForce could be hurt; they weren't invincible. She knew that from personal experience. But that was fifteen years ago, and while she could hold out hope that the humans had been merciful, Omelos's sun would have ended them more assuredly than any orbital bombardment. By now, it would have died in the unbridled destruction of a supernova, taking the last of her people with it. The Minbari didn't care. They wanted her research and her knowledge of the other younger races. They tried to curry favor with her, claimed that someone had saved her people, but the idea was ludicrous. The resources needed would have been incredible. The Dilgar had no friends, only enemies, and who would expend that much to save their enemies?

The door slid open, and she looked up languidly. There was a time when she would have snapped to attention, half afraid, half hoping that they would kill her. Now, she couldn't bring herself to care.

"Ah, so the mighty Shai Alyt sees fit to grace me with his presence," she said mockingly.

"Tell me of the humans," Aeraan snapped, not bothering with any preamble. "Their ships, their weapons, their stealth. Everything."

Jha'dur stared at him. Her lips twitched in amusement, until finally, she choked it back. "You... you've started a war with the humans, haven't you? Oh, this is deliciously rich! You have no idea what you've gotten yourself into."

The Wind Sword frowned. "That is what the human said."

"Then perhaps it might behoove you to at least **consider** that there **might** be some truth to it?" she said waspishly.

"Why should I? He is human. They lie."

"Oh! So you're an expert on humans, are you?" the Warmaster mocked. "I'm suddenly quite curious why you keep me around then."

"You likely have information of some small value," he sneered. "Of course, I must remember that the humans crushed your people. Your strategies and tactics availed you little then."

"The humans humbled us, yes," the Warmaster agreed, anger sparking in her eyes, "but they are also everything the Dilgar ever sought to be. They are everything you are not, and that is why you will lose."

Aeraan scoffed.

"Arrogance and stupidity in one convenient package," she snorted. "I applaud your efficiency. Look around you," she said, gesturing. "They are expanding; you are shrinking. In two hundred years, they have fought wars, conquered enemies, forged alliances, and advanced their technology; in a thousand, you have built ships, trained, and prayed. Their star is rising. And yours? Yours is dimming. You have stirred the dragon's nest, and they will consume you."

"Not if we slay them first," Aeraan answered, continuing the analogy. "I came for information, not speeches."

"Can you not feel it?" she demanded, rising to her feet and prowling the room, ignoring his rebuke. "I can taste it in the air. This war is a turning point, the knife's edge, when the balance is finally tipped."

"Between darkness and light?"

"Between young and old," she corrected. "You wish to know about their ships? They number in the thousands; they have enough ships to drown you in them. Their weapons? Their standard ship cannons cut through our heaviest battle armor in seconds; their most powerful could destroy whole battle formations. Their stealth? Hid them from every sensor known to Dilgarkind beyond our own two eyes. One by one, we crushed the League, but against EarthForce, we only had one real victory."

"Tell me about that victory," Aeraan demanded.

"It was in the Brakiri system," she said, her voice growing distant as her mind wandered to the past. "We had just lost Mitoc. We sent raiders to harass their supply lines, for all the good that did. Still, Earth did slow their advance; they had had to choose between detaching warships to defend their supply ships or use their 'fold ships' for mere transport, either of which slowed them down. That, however, didn't mean they let us sit idly by.

"Their flagship was a gigantic ship they called the SDF-19 Vanguard - Did you know that, for some odd reason, the humans seem to prefer referring to their largest capital ships by hull number rather than name? - and their Admiral Hamato led raids into our territory, escorting blockade runners to the occupied worlds. In Brakiri orbit, we had a large shipment of nuclear weapons in transit, originally intended to be used to bombard the Markab out of existence."

"So? What did you do?"

"I repurposed them," she said, offering a sly smile. "I used them to mine the asteroid field in the Brakiri system and lured the SDF-19 in with my own flagship and escort fleet. The Brakiri called me Deathwalker for what I had done - they had no idea what we had planned for them - but it was enough. Hamato took the bait, and I bathed his ship in nuclear fire." Her smile turned bittersweet. "It had some sort of defensive barrier. I think we overloaded something, because the barrier flared and destroyed half our escorts... and all of theirs. Their ship was vulnerable for that... **one**... moment, and we pounced, blasting the SDF-19 to bits at point-blank range."

Aeraan's expression darkened.

"I see," he said, nodding thoughtfully. "For all your vaunted reputation as a warrior race, you only won through trickery and deceit. They must have a patron, one of the First Ones."

"Perhaps," Jha'dur said with a shrug. "Intercepts did indicate a division in their technology, between what they call robotechnology and what they call Shadow technology, and it was the latter which proved most devastating."

Aeraan's eyes widened slightly.

_Well,_ she thought, _that seems to have caught his attention. Interesting..._

* * *

><p>Author's Postscript:<p>

Surprise, surprise. Aeraan's not a complete moron.


	5. Chapter 5

Title: Jumping at Shadows (5/?)

Author: Cyclone

Feedback: Please be gentle.

Distribution: Gimme credit and a link.

Rating: Nothing worse than on the shows, except maybe language.

Spoilers: After the end of one and before the beginning of the other.

Disclaimer: The characters depicted herein belong to other people. I'm just borrowing them for a while.

Summary: First contact between the United Earth Alliance and the Minbari Federation goes horribly wrong.

Author's Note: Consider this a sort of AU to The Thin Grey Line. Not exactly, as I've changed how some of the technology interacts, but sort of.

* * *

><p><strong>September 13, 2245<strong>

**Space Station Joshua: Command deck**

Of all the things that came with life in the United Earth Defense Force, Stella hated the waiting the most. The evacuation of the civilians from the colony on Jericho III had been completed, and after the Tennyson had managed to capture a Minbari scout ship relatively intact, she had taken the risk of detaching her to act as a fold tug to get the evacuation ships and the Demeter with her precious intel on the Battle of Nochtal Station back to Earth space.

The Minbari's lack of activity in the past week, however, made her antsy. Space Station Joshua was too big a threat for the Minbari to leave alone; any advance into Earth space would expose their flanks to raids based at Joshua. They **had** to be the Minbari's next target.

"Commodore, reading multiple jump points!"

"How many?"

"Nine. Gravitics show that many heavy cruisers, twice that many frigates, plus fighters. Three times what they hit Nochtal with."

"Understood," she acknowledged. "Sound battle stations throughout the fleet, condition one. All ships deploy and prepare to execute defense plan bravo."

"Commodore, defense plan bravo was predicated on having six heavy cruisers," her XO, Franklin Devereux, pointed out. "With the Tennyson still gone..."

"We'll plug the hole with veritechs," she said curtly. "That'll limit our strike package, but we'll have to make do. How are we doing on the missile modifications?"

"Done, ma'am. We haven't finished the final checks yet, but they should work."

"Good," she said. "I'll take what I can get."

* * *

><p><strong>September 13, 2245<strong>

**Jericho System**

The Jericho Defense Task Force carefully moved into position, maneuvering into a battle formation centered around Space Station Joshua. The two Nova-class dreadnoughts were at the head of the formation, their relative tops oriented toward the incoming Minbari ships in order to grant clear fields of fire for both broadsides. Flanking them were the five Hyperion-class heavy cruisers, and forming the remains of the defensive formation were the twelve Tyche-class cruisers. Over two hundred veritech fighters launched, some from ships, some from the station. Three full squadrons, forty-five fighters in all, hung back, while the remaining fighters raced out to intercept the Minbari.

For their part, the Minbari ships started slowing their approach, allowing the Nial and Tishat fighters to take the lead, with the Tinashi-class war frigates close behind. The Nial heavy fighter was the workhorse of the Minbari Federation's fighter force: heavily armored, heavily armed, and more agile than most fighters fielded by the younger races. Its triple fusion cannons gave it devastating firepower, enough to threaten capital ships, but Nochtal made it painfully clear that they weren't maneuverable **enough**, taking nearly two to one losses against the humans. Thus, the Tishats, which carried only a single light fusion cannon and bore thinner armor, carrying instead a more potent gravitic engine, sacrificed firepower and durability for even greater acceleration and agility. Up until now, on the rare occasions the Tishats saw combat, none of the younger races had been able to touch them. How well they would fare against the Shadowfuries of EarthForce was about to be determined.

Several long seconds passed.

* * *

><p><strong>September 13, 2245<strong>

**Space Station Joshua: Command deck**

_I hate waiting,_ the commodore thought. She glanced as the estimated range ticked down. They were within weapons range but still well beyond visual tracking range. "Open fire!" Hopefully, they would get lucky.

* * *

><p><strong>September 13, 2245<strong>

**Jericho System**

Both sides opened fire at virtually the same moment. With the absence of accurate sensor data, the delays of the speed of light for observation, and the vagaries of computer processing time for record keeping, no one would be able to tell who actually fired first.

Fighters on both sides held their fire, waiting white-knuckled for the moment when they got into point-blank range. From Space Station Joshua and her defense group, synchro cannon beams and particle lasers stabbed out into the darkness, aimed by little more than dead reckoning, deliberately avoiding the "safe channels" previously established to avoid shooting down their own fighters. In contrast, the Minbari response was more selective. The frigates fired blindly at the approaching veritechs, while the cruisers sent neutron lasers lancing out toward the defense flotilla.

* * *

><p><strong>September 13, 2245<strong>

**Space Station Joshua: Command deck**

"We just lost the Miranda and Circe! Medea's reporting critical damage!"

"God damn it!" Stella swore. She glanced down at her console. The Minbari were tearing their cruisers apart, but the heavy cruisers and dreadnoughts were faring much better.

"The Patton's reporting synchro cannon power spikes, ma'am!"

"Shut 'em down!" she ordered. "Shut 'em all down! How are the fighters doing?"

"They're entering visual tracking range of their lead elements now."

Stella glared out toward the general direction from which the incoming fire originated. A fierce smile crossed her face. "Say cheese, boneheads," she murmured. "All fighters, break and engage!"

* * *

><p><strong>September 13, 2245<strong>

**Jericho System**

"Allll right, Banshees," drawled 1Lt Robert "Duke" Simms, Banshee Leader, on the squadron frequency. "Y'all heard the lady: Break an' engage." He pulled up and peeled off to the left, trusting his two wingmen to watch his back as he made an attack run on one of the Minbari frigates. His Shadowfury moved a little sluggishly, weighed down by the two reflex missiles attached to its atmospheric wing hardpoints.

"Banshee Leader," he drawled again. "Rifles away."

The reflex missiles were each touting a one-hundred-kiloton tactical warhead. To give the Minbari credit, their point defense weapons blew apart one of the reflex missiles in seconds, but the other continued on unimpeded, plowing into the frigate and shattering it as it detonated. They didn't have very many fighter-launched reflex missiles at Jericho, but the few they had were put to good use on the frigates.

That sequence of events repeated itself dozens of times as the veritech fighters broke formation and dove at the Minbari fighters and frigates. Missiles swarmed out at point-blank range, many cut down by the frigates' point defense systems but eventually overwhelming them even as the Nials and Tishats opened fire on the veritechs. The dogfight had begun, brutal and relentless, but the Sharlin war cruisers had bigger problems to worry about.

Right behind the veritech fighters, previously hidden by their thruster flares, long range missiles launched from Joshua's silos - some armed with reflex warheads, others carrying cluster warheads with multiple submunitions - made their final approach. The modifications to their internal guidance systems kicked in, changing from a simple nav waypoint follow path to active targeting, acquiring targets with their on-board visual tracking systems. Reflex missiles homed in on frigates and cruisers while cluster missiles targeted groups of Minbari fighters.

PL1 Victor "Vittles" Thurston reconfigured his fighter to battloid mode and blasted the Minbari fighters that surrounded him. He had jinked left instead of right and found himself practically surrounded.

"Vittles, get out of there!" his radio blared. "Buddy spike!"

Vittles turned, but it was too late. The cluster missile didn't care that there was a single lost veritech in the mix. All it cared about were the half-dozen Minbari fighters surrounding him. Two dozen submunitions were released, scattering toward them, hitting Shadowfury, Nial, and Tishat alike.

Then they detonated.

* * *

><p><strong>September 13, 2245<strong>

**Drala Fi: Command chamber**

Shai Alyt Aeraan's jaw hung open as the missiles pounded the flotilla. He closed his eyes and mouth and asked, "Damage report?"

"We... we lost... seven war cruisers, Shai Alyt," came the hushed answer. "And the Dariti is reporting heavy damage."

"And the fighters and war frigates?"

"The Tishats are faring better than the Nials, but they are still taking unfavorable losses. We've lost nine war frigates to enemy fire, and four more are reporting heavy damage."

"Understood," Aeraan said. He opened his eyes. "Press the attack."

"But... Shai Alyt, should we not-?"

"No!" he snapped. "Not yet."

* * *

><p><strong>September 13, 2245<strong>

**Space Station Joshua: Command deck**

"Commodore, they're still coming."

"That doesn't make any sense," Stella frowned. "We've gutted two-thirds of their forces."

"Maybe they realize we're out of tricks?"

"No, Frank," she said, shaking her head. "We've still got both dreadnoughts and four heavy cruisers." One of their heavy cruisers, the Frost, had been cut in half by a lucky neutron laser shot. "They're outmatched; they have to know that."

"Enemy forces entering optimum visual engagement range. The Patton's engaging the cruisers."

Stella watched and shook her head as the point-blank clash between Nova and Sharlin reached its inevitable and predictable conclusion.

"And that's why you don't send a cruiser to do a dreadnought's job," Frank said dryly.

"Except they did," she pointed out. "But **why?** There has to be a reason."

"Commodore! Reading multiple jump points!"

"What? How many?"

"Three!"

"Where?"

"Oh, God. They're right on-!"

* * *

><p><strong>September 13, 2245<strong>

**Drala Fi: Command chamber**

"In Valen's name..."

Aeraan didn't know who said it, but whoever it was only spoke what was in the hearts of the entire crew as they surveyed the damage before them. The three war cruisers held in reserve, including Drala Fi, had needed targeting data from the main assault force to plot the jump points accurately enough to destroy the human ships, but it seemed they were too late.

Suddenly, Aeraan had to fight to keep his balance. His eyes darted across the holographic display, locking onto the source of the incoming fire. One of the two human dreadnoughts had survived the attack. It was drifting, venting atmosphere, and barely a quarter of its weapons were firing, but it obviously still had some fight left in it.

"Destroy that dreadnought!" he snapped.

Neutron laser beams from three Sharlin war cruisers converged on the drifting dreadnought. Pinpoint barriers failed to materialize, and the dreadnought's final act of defiance was silenced in seconds.

"Status report!" Aeraan snapped.

"Heavy damage to the starboard hull. We've lost three of our fusion cannons."

"All human capital ships have been destroyed, Shai Alyt. We lost all nine war cruisers of the first wave and fifteen war frigates. Enemy fighters are fleeing."

"Hunt them down," he ordered. "Kill them all." The humans' tactics were deadly effective. They couldn't allow the humans to report back just how effective they were, not until they had developed a proper counter.

* * *

><p><strong>September 14, 2245<strong>

**UES Tennyson: Bridge**

Cmdr Clive Greene sighed as the convoy defolded near Space Station Destiny. He took a moment to drink in the sight. Destiny was a massive Liberty-class space station, a major hub of the Spacy's operations in this sector of space, second only to Earth itself. Hundreds of spacecraft lurked the vastness of space, both military and civilian, darting along toward their destinations or waiting for clearance or instructions. Clive could see half a dozen Nova-class dreadnoughts in dry dock, undergoing refits.

"Comms, open a channel. UES Tennyson to Space Station Destiny, we are arriving with the UES Demeter and evacuees from Jericho III."

"Thank God you're here. We weren't sure if any of you made it."

Clive paused for a long moment as an icy cold knot of fear formed in his gut. "Say... say again, Destiny?"

"Commander... I-... I'm sorry. We lost contact with Joshua Station yesterday."

It took him a moment to force the words out. "Acknowledged, Destiny."

* * *

><p><strong>September 17, 2245<strong>

**Space Station Destiny: Med-Lab**

"So, how's the newest patient, Doc?" Vice Admiral (VAdm) Eric Manning asked. It had taken some doing to find a break in his schedule long enough to drop by - he was always on call, and a command this size meant he was constantly bombarded by emergencies of one sort or another - but the situation with the prisoner the Tennyson had come back with was definitely something that needed his attention.

"Well, he's stable, near as I can tell," Doctor Harrison Cooper replied, paging through the file. "Most of the apparent baselines are pretty close to human, which isn't surprising, given what we found."

"What you found?" Eric frowned. "What are you talking about, Harry?"

"Well... yes," Harry said, looking up, surprised. "I put it in my report this morning."

"With everything that's going on, I haven't even gotten around to yesterday's reports yet, let alone this morning's," Eric said. "Gimme the Cliff's Notes."

"We took a genetic sample, per SOP, in case we needed to clone some spare parts. Analysis just came back: This guy's part human."

Eric blinked as he considered that for a long moment. He closed his eyes and shook his head. "God damn it." He opened his eyes. "Tell me, Harry, why the hell is it that every alien race we end up going to war with is some distant cousin or other?"

"It gets better," Harry added. "There's a hint of Invid in him too."

Eric closed his eyes again and rubbed his temples, trying to fend off the headache. "I see."

"So... how bad is it, Admiral?"

"Bad," Eric admitted. "Half the fleet's utterly ineffective; the other half's in need of major refits." He shook his head. "We're not ready for this fight."

* * *

><p><strong>September 17, 2245<strong>

**Valen'tha: Grey Council chamber**

Delenn stood among the rest of the Grey Council as they reviewed the battle of Jericho III.

"This is very troubling, Aeraan," Satai Coplann of the Warrior Caste said, his voice grave. "Perhaps you would care to explain?"

"The humans possess technology on par with our own," the Shai Alyt answered. "They use particle lasers which are nearly as powerful as our own neutron lasers, and their metal armor is nearly a match for our crystal, a gap which is lessened, if not eclipsed, by the powerful energy shields they possess. That, however, is not the worst of it."

"Go on," Coplann prompted.

Aeraan closed his eyes and paused to choose his next words carefully. "I have reason to believe the humans are backed by the Shadows. Their most powerful weapons match the records of the beam weapons used by the Shadows in the last war, and their stealth technology is easily equal to our own. I have learned that, during their war with Dilgar, the humans referred to their most advanced technology as Shadow technology."

A distressed murmur rose among the Grey Council as they absorbed this new information.

"A thousand years ago, Valen foretold that the Shadows would return at this time," Delenn said, her voice half-accusatory. "You did not listen."

"An error we regret," replied Satai Morann, also of the Warrior Caste, his voice heavy, "for it has given the Shadows' servants the opportunity to kill the best of us before we were ready. Dukhat believed the humans would play a pivotal role in the war against the Shadows. It appears he was right."

"We are still not ready," Satai Hedronn of the Worker Caste pointed out. "Not for this war. It will take many months to bring our production of war materiel up enough to support this kind of war, let alone bringing ships out of storage."

"But will the humans allow us the luxury of time?" Morann pointed out. "They have already wounded us deeply, while we have barely touched the edges of their worlds."

"Time is not a luxury," Hedronn argued. "It is a necessity."

"We should withdraw to our established borders," Delenn suggested. "Build up our forces before we continue prosecuting the war."

"Agreed," Coplann said, nodding. "We can send raiding parties out to harass them, keep them off-balance."

The rest of the Grey Council nodded, murmuring in agreement. It was a good plan.

* * *

><p>Author's Postscript:<p>

And the universe... held its breath.


	6. Chapter 6

Title: Jumping at Shadows (6/?)

Author: Cyclone

Feedback: Please be gentle.

Distribution: Gimme credit and a link.

Rating: Nothing worse than on the shows, except maybe language.

Spoilers: After the end of one and before the beginning of the other.

Disclaimer: The characters depicted herein belong to other people. I'm just borrowing them for a while.

Summary: First contact between the United Earth Alliance and the Minbari Federation goes horribly wrong.

Author's Note: Consider this a sort of AU to The Thin Grey Line. Not exactly, as I've changed how some of the technology interacts, but sort of.

* * *

><p><strong>September 26, 2245<strong>

**Earthdome, New York City: Prime Minister's office**

"Here's the analysis of the data the Demeter brought back from Nochtal," Minister of Defense Scott Harris said, holding the file out. "Given the importance of this, I figured I'd take it to you personally."

Prime Minister Elizabeth Levy accepted the file but did not open it. "All right, Scott," she said, "give it to me straight. How bad is it?" It wasn't an unreasonable question; the reactions of the Centauri and the League of Non-Aligned Worlds had made it clear that none of them even considered fighting the Minbari a sane decision, even though the UEDF had more than proven itself against the Dilgar.

"Not as bad as we feared," Scott answered, "but not as good as we hoped. We've got good news and bad news."

"Start with the bad news."

"Tactically, the Minbari's active stealth is every bit as good as a Shadow cloak," Scott said, shaking his head and grimacing. "Our best guess is that it may operate by some sort of gravimetric lensing effect. Strategically, the Shadow cloaks have a slight edge. We know they're there, and we can track them with gravitics, but only just barely, not well enough for our targeting computers. Optical works just about as well as we'd expect, which means point-blank."

"And the good news?"

"Two, actually," he said. "First, their disruptor wave appears to have a limited range, slightly less than the range of a synchro cannon, but greater than we can target visually. Second, Shadow cloaks are just as effective against them as anyone else, and it's unaffected by their disruptor wave."

She sighed and leaned back, closing her eyes. "So, we're both fighting blind."

"That's about the size of it," he said. He hesitated, then added, "Like I said, to target them effectively, we're going to have to engage at point-blank range, where our interceptors and pinpoint barriers are least effective."

Alongside the power of synchro cannons and the stealth of Shadow cloaks, interceptors and pinpoint barriers had been one of the Spacy's key advantages in combat, making the already-durable Earth ships nigh-indestructible. However, they weren't perfect. They didn't provide full coverage like the Abbai's shields or the omni-directional barrier (which, being a two-way system and hideously expensive, was impractical for combat). Interceptors needed time to acquire and target the incoming fire, and pinpoint barriers needed time to move into position. At point-blank range, the limited available response time drastically reduced their effectiveness.

"Two more trump cards down then," she sighed, leaning forward again and resting her elbows on her desk in a rather undignified manner.

He nodded. "Knife fighting, Beth. It's going to be bloody. Their weapons cut through our armor like a hot knife through butter."

"And ours?"

"Just as effective, by all reports."

"I see," she said, nodding absently.

"Also," Scott said, "my ministry's received a message from Warmaster Yu'dun in the Dilgar Protectorate."

"Oh, God," she muttered, dropping her face into her hands. "What now?"

Warmaster Yu'dun was the nominal leader of the Dilgar Protectorate. She had headed the Dilgar Imperium's Communications division, placing her - and fellow survivor, Warmaster Burro'don of Logistics - low on the Warmaster totem pole during the Dilgar Invasion. The Dilgar Emperor and the rest of their (largely puppet) civilian government had been killed when Earth took Mitoc, and all the more senior Warmasters were either killed in action or had been tried and convicted for war crimes. Yu'dun's actions at the tail end of the conflict and professed personal misgivings about the genocides planned by the War Council had earned her a degree of trust from Earthdome.

"They, ah, they want to help, Beth," Scott said. "Apparently, they have volunteers lining up to fight the Minbari."

The Prime Minister shook her head. "We can't accept that. They're a protectorate, and their demilitarization is a key clause most of the League worlds demanded. We can't let the Dilgar form a military force without nullifying almost all of our trade agreements."

"I'm aware," Scott acknowledged. "However, I believe I have a solution to that. A... a loophole, of sorts. How's your pre-Visitor history?"

She took a moment to consider that question carefully. With the Rain of Death, Earth's population had been drastically reduced, and the social and political map had been wiped clean of most of the centuries of history, grudges, and bad blood that had led up to the state of the world up until then. Consequently, pre-Visitor history, while avidly supported by enthusiasts, was little more than a curiosity with no real application.

"Specifically the World Wars?" he clarified after a moment.

"I know it well enough," she said with a nod. Unlike most pre-Visitor history, the World Wars remained a particularly popular subject of study. As the only wars Earth had fought before the Robotech Wars that even compared in scale, they had formed the foundation of the political, strategic, and tactical theory that had been refined by the Robotech Wars.

"Well, have you ever heard of the Flying Tigers?"

* * *

><p><strong>October 10, 2245<strong>

**United Earth Alliance Embassy to Narn: Ambassador David Sheridan's office**

Ambassador David Sheridan ran a hand through his hair and practically inhaled his coffee. Narn's thirty-one-hour days played havoc with a human's biological clock, and worry for his son hadn't helped matters. With the UEA on a war footing, even his diplomatic channel to Earth was screened heavily, so he had had no word on John since the war started. Jericho had been the only real battle of the war so far, but there had been some raids and skirmishes as well.

There was a perfunctory knock on his office door, moments before it opened. His aide leaned in.

"Ambassador," he said, "there's a member of the Kha'Ri here to see you. Third Circle."

David looked up at his aide, surprised. "I don't recall anything scheduled today."

"Last minute," he said with a shrug. "It... it looks important, sir."

"It's always important," he said with a sigh. "Send him in."

"Yes, sir."

His aide ducked out, and moments later, two cloaked figures stepped in. One walked in, his head bare, while the other's face was concealed within the shadows of his cloak.

"Ambassador G'Kar!" David rose to his feet and greeted his Narn counterpart warmly. "You are quite possibly the last Narn I expected to see here. Did you just get back from Earth?"

"I did, actually," G'Kar said. "A matter of great urgency called me home, one concerning our friend here," he elaborated, gesturing to the cloaked figure.

"And who is our friend?" David asked politely.

The cloaked figure threw the hood back, revealing a distinctly human face. "First Lieutenant Valerie Yamamoto, Talon Squadron, UES Helios," she said. "United Earth Spacy."

_All right,_ David thought, _so it **was** important._ He frowned and said, "Lieutenant, according to my last brief from Earth, the Helios was reported lost with all hands."

"That report was... somewhat exaggerated, sir," she said hesitantly. "There was a Narn freighter at Nochtal. I blacked out during the battle, and the freighter recovered me after the fighting was over."

"Anyone else, G'Kar?"

"None living, I am afraid," G'Kar answered solemnly. He held out a data crystal and added, "A copy of the Dere'Kot's sensor logs of the battle. I imagine... it would be useful. It includes visual records as well, as the on-board sensors proved rather... ineffective at tracking either side of the battle." Translation: _And we'd really like to know how you did it._

David accepted the data crystal. "Understood and thank you, Ambassador." _Not a chance in this lifetime._ "What about her fighter? Was it recovered?" _So we can take it back before you figure anything out?_

"Nothing intact." _We're taking it apart as we speak._

David didn't have to be a telepath to know the Narns had to be tearing the fighter apart. In their position, humanity would have done the same thing. **Had** done the same thing, actually; it was how they'd clawed their way this far up the galactic food chain less than three hundred years after their first space flight.

He turned to the lieutenant and said, "There are a lot of people back home who would love to have a word with you, Lieutenant. I think it's time we arrange it."

"We have a ship heading for Earth soon," G'Kar said. "It's not comfortable, but it will do the job."

"Heading for Earth?" David asked with a frown.

"Yes," the Narn ambassador said, nodding. "A token of good faith in your time of need: raw materials and weapons we... liberated... from the Centauri. They're not as good as yours, but they are comparable, and a war with the Minbari is not something to be taken lightly."

David blinked. "That's... surprising, Ambassador, considering the reactions from the League and the Centauri."

"We are your **friends**, David," G'Kar said firmly, "and friends do not turn on each other in times of need. We need our fleets to defend our worlds from the threat of Centauri aggression, and though it pains me to admit it, I suspect they would be of little use in your war. Still, that does not mean that we will just stand by and do nothing."

"Thank you, G'Kar," David said sincerely. "You don't know how much this means to us."

"On the contrary, David," G'Kar said quietly, "I suspect I do. You see, when the Centauri came for us... no one cared. There was... there was no one to speak out, no one to help. We were... alone. Now the Minbari are coming for you, and though we cannot fight beside you, at least we can show you that... that **you** are not alone."

* * *

><p><strong>October 17, 2245<strong>

**Robotech Military Academy, Mars: Flight school classroom**

"All right, nuggets, listen up!" the flight instructor, recently promoted Second Lieutenant (2Lt) Jeffrey Sinclair called out. He gestured to the rotating holographic image. "This is a composite rendition of what we believe to be the standard Minbari fighter, reporting name Fencer. We don't have much data on them, so I'm going to turn the floor over First Lieutenant Yamamoto, the only pilot to come back alive from fighting these things."

That caused a murmur to wash over the classroom. The arrogant smirks were quickly replaced by concerned frowns. _Good,_ he thought. _We're getting through to them._

"Thanks," Sapper said as she stepped up. "First piece of advice: Don't treat them like you would a Centauri or Narn fighter; that's a good way to get killed. These things can fly rings around any other conventional fighter, and they're a helluva lot faster than a battloid. Don't get mode-stuck, or you'll be dead before you know it."

Getting "mode-stuck" was something that happened to all but the most talented veritech pilots, and even the most rigorous training couldn't prevent it from happening on occasion. It referred to the unfortunate tendency to forget that a veritech was a multiform mecha capable of transforming on the fly. Even the most legendary veritech pilots were known to have gotten mode-stuck on occasion; most famously, it was believed to have contributed to the death of the first veritech pilot in history, Roy Fokker.

"That said," she continued, "our veritechs still have a slight edge in overall agility, and we're pretty evenly matched in acceleration, but because we have to reconfigure to align our most powerful thrusters, they have a very slight edge in responsiveness. And believe me, they **will** use it. They don't appear to be equipped to carry missiles, but their cannon armaments more than make up for any potential lack in firepower."

* * *

><p><strong>October 21, 2245<strong>

**Jump space**

The Valen'zha - Valen's Future - was the lead ship of the task force lurking in hyperspace. The Valen'zha was a Sharlan line cruiser, a variation of the Sharlin war cruiser armed with an overwhelming array of fusion cannons and antimatter converters. Up close, a Sharlan was devastating, but it lacked the long-range firepower of its cousin's neutron lasers, relegating the Sharlan to fleet formations... and the Fire Wings clan. It took a certain radical thinking to take a ship with such short-ranged weaponry into combat without long-ranged support units.

And Fire Wings were good at radical thinking. It was in their blood, from the day their clan earned its name, bringing war to the skies of Minbar. Where the Wind Swords relied on boldness and power and the Star Riders relied on contemplation and strategy, the Fire Wings instead relied on innovation and technology.

Alyt Toroon of the Fire Wings clan meditated. Reconnaissance into Earth territory had located this outlying colony and its accompanying hyperspace beacon. The humans **had** to use this beacon if they intended to reinforce or evacuate this colony.

Therein lay the problem. They had been waiting here for over two weeks now, and not a single ship had passed by.

It didn't help that they had been picking up sensor ghosts in the area, sensor readings suggestings ships which then vanished into the ether when they approached. When they investigated, there were no ships to found within hyperspace and no sign of a jump point. But the last unusual reading had been five days ago.

"Send a reconnaissance flight out," he said finally.

* * *

><p><strong>October 21, 2245<strong>

**UES Prometheus: Bridge**

As the Prometheus and the rest of the ships in the task force hurtled through jump space along the suspected Minbari border, Capt. Michael Jankowski brooded. The hearing had cleared him of all charges - the letter of reprimand was just a formality, really - but there was a part of him that nagged at him, wondered if he had made the right decision. They had offered him this mission, telling him that it called for the "initiative" and "decisiveness" he had demonstrated. That nagging bit of doubt was convinced that Spacy High Command was off-loading what they thought was a dangerous loose cannon on a mission where he could do the least damage to EarthForce.

He shook those thoughts off and checked back on his task force. They had been reinforced with four more ships: the Hyperion-class heavy cruisers UES Hood and UES Van Buren and the Nova-class dreadnoughts UES Rolf Emerson and UES Hades. The Emerson and Hades were both fresh off the assembly lines and had been altered with the new refits mid-construction. This brought the task force up to five heavy cruisers and two dreadnoughts, more than enough for the task at hand... in theory.

"We're picking up an unidentified jump space beacon, Captain."

"Let's follow it in, then," he said. "Lock on to that beacon and bring us about, two-thirds power."

"Aye, Captain."

* * *

><p><strong>October 21, 2245<strong>

**Valen'zha: Command chamber**

Toroon was deeply concerned. The reconnaissance flight had returned, reporting that the fledgeling human colony was now deserted. Somehow, the humans had managed to evacuate the tiny colony without any ships entering hyperspace. It should have been patently impossible. Everyone used hyperspace and jump points, even the First Ones. True, legends held that the Shadows could pass between normal space and hyperspace without a jump point, but even they still needed hyperspace to break the speed of light.

And yet, it seemed, the humans were not bound by that limitation.

"Set a course for Deneb," he said. _If we cannot raid their shipping,_ he thought, _we'll have to strike at their far colonies and force them to divide their fleet._ It was a risky move, attacking a major colony, but it was necessary.

The route to Deneb was a curiosity in hyperspace, one which intercepts indicated even the humans did not understand, though they had no qualms about using it. Minbari scout ships had reported a well-traveled route from Earth-controlled space to Deneb, flanked by gravitational tides so severe that any ship straying off-beacon would be torn asunder long before they could get lost... but along that path, hyperspace itself seemed to be... folded, for lack of a better term, reducing a trip that should take more than a year down to only a few days.

* * *

><p>Author's Postscript:<p>

For everyone clamoring for the Minbari to suffer a big defeat... be patient. Anyone looking for a curbstomp... look elsewhere. Both sides will have their victories and defeats.


	7. Chapter 7

Title: Jumping at Shadows (7/?)

Author: Cyclone

Feedback: Please be gentle.

Distribution: Gimme credit and a link.

Rating: Nothing worse than on the shows, except maybe language.

Spoilers: After the end of one and before the beginning of the other.

Disclaimer: The characters depicted herein belong to other people. I'm just borrowing them for a while.

Summary: First contact between the United Earth Alliance and the Minbari Federation goes horribly wrong.

Author's Note: Consider this a sort of AU to The Thin Grey Line. Not exactly, as I've changed how some of the technology interacts, but sort of.

* * *

><p><strong>October 29, 2245<strong>

**Minbari space**

The patrol along the spinward border of the Minbari Federation had been reinforced. Half a dozen Sharlin war cruisers now cruised along where before a single cruiser or a handful of Tinashi war frigates would have been deemed enough. The losses as Nochtal and Jericho had reverberated throughout the entire Federation, especially the Warrior Caste. Though the total losses were insignificant in comparison to their fleets, that they had suffered such losses with those odds shook them to the core.

The humans were dangerous, and now, every Minbari knew it. They had not faced a threat this great in nearly a thousand years.

While not exactly happy with her assignment, Alyt Iridenn of the war cruiser Alachai **was** content. The war turned an otherwise minor task into one critical for her people's security, and it was an honor to serve.

"Alyt, reading jump points forming!"

"Lock it down, Radienn," Iridenn ordered. "What are we facing?"

"Unknown, sensors aren't detecting anything," Radienn reported. "Bringing up visual now."

The command chamber vanished as the holographic display appeared. Iridenn watched the jump points as the ships emerged. One was a huge, blocky black slab of alloy and cannons, ugly and simple in design, but no less intimidating for it. Five others were smaller ships, cruisers which, though equally simplistic in structure, lacked the raw, almost unfinished look of the massive dreadnought.

This would be a difficult battle, but if they could knock the dreadnought out early... She opened her mouth to give the order when Radienn called out again, "Another jump point, to our rear!"

Iridenn spun to examine the part of the holographic display behind her. Nosing out of the jump point was another dreadnought. She turned forward again, noting the cruisers' dispersed formation even as the dreadnought bore down on them on what was presumably a full burn. The humans had them pinned; their jump drives were cold, and they would not be able to escape in normal space without at least one exchange of fire at close range.

Fortunately, escape was not her plan.

"All ships, converge," she ordered. "We'll target the dreadnought ahead of us first."

"We still cannot achieve a target lock, Alyt."

"Then aim down the gun barrels," she retorted. "Our gunners have eyes, do they not? If they can see it, they can shoot it." Admittedly, the accuracy at this range would be very poor, even with a target that size. It would take a prodigious amount of luck to score a hit on visuals until they got closer to the enemy... much closer. Of course, if they didn't even try, the odds went from slim to none.

* * *

><p><strong>October 29, 2245<strong>

**UES Prometheus: Bridge**

"They're firing blindly, Captain," Alan reported. "Looks like they're panicking."

"No," Michael murmured, shaking his head. "If they were panicking, they'd be **running**. They've got enough room to maneuver; they could easily make a run for it and suffer only one pass, and that's assuming their jump drives aren't running hot. They know we outgun them, so they're trying for a lucky shot to even the odds before we close."

Michael Jankowski was a bold officer, intuitive and capable in combat situations. He had initiative and was willing to take risks, something which, while praised, sometimes backfired. He knew he had been overconfident and overeager in the first mission that started this war, had forgotten that Shadow cloaks weren't perfect. It was a mistake that had cost over a thousand good men and women their lives, and he still hadn't forgiven himself for it.

"All ships... launch fighters."

* * *

><p><strong>October 29, 2245<strong>

**Minbari space**

Over seventy veritech fighters cruised out in formation toward the Minbari patrol from the six Earth ships ahead of them, and about twice as many Nials deployed to greet them. Behind the Minbari ships, the Emerson's two squadrons kept close, guarding their mothership's flanks.

"All right, boys and girls," murmured the new CAG. Cmdr Angela "Seraph" Sterling was a legend and had been specifically selected to command the fighter group for this mission. "Looks like we've got ourselves a pretty even fight. What say we tip the odds in our favor? All fighters, engage Shadow Volley."

As the two fighter groups neared gun range, the veritechs suddenly transformed, going to guardian mode and swinging their main thrusters forward, rapidly decelerating. The Minbari fighter pilots redoubled their acceleration, not seeing the shadowy objects detach from the veritech fighters. Suddenly, the veritechs transformed again and rocketed past the Nials, cannons blazing with suppressive fire. Taking advantage of their gravitic drives, the Minbari spun and fired on the passing veritechs, which in turn went to battloid mode and returned fire.

Then the Switchblade missiles left by the veritechs ignited their rocket motors and began plowing the Nials from behind. Each Shadowfury had deployed half a dozen missiles, two to three for each Nial. Dozens struck home and detonated before the Minbari pilots even realized the threat, and more as they began to maneuver.

* * *

><p><strong>October 29, 2245<strong>

**Alachai: Command chamber**

"In Valen's name!" Iridenn swore. "Status?"

"We've lost over half our fighters," Radienn reported.

Her lips tightened to a thin line. That had been a clever bit of trickery.

"Alyt," Radienn said, "what do we do now?"

"We fight and die as warriors," she declared. "Helm, all ahead emergency power. Divert all remaining power except emergency life support to weapons, continuous fire."

* * *

><p><strong>October 29, 2245<strong>

**UES Prometheus: Bridge**

Michael leaned forward as the Minbari ships increased their acceleration and rate of fire. Unless the Minbari were far more advanced than EarthForce believed, they had to be red-lining their engines and weapons at this point. "'Into the valley of death rode the six hundred,'" he murmured.

"Sir?"

"It's a suicide run," he clarified. "They don't stand a chance, and they know it, so they're just trying to take as many of us with them as they can." Unless, of course, they were faking it. He considered his options at this point. So far, they had so little intel on the Minbari, it was aggravating. They'd only stumbled across this patrol by sheer chance. "Weps, fire to disable. Comms, relay same to all ships."

* * *

><p><strong>October 29, 2245<strong>

**Minbari space**

The five Hyperion-class heavy cruisers were each a match for any of the six Sharlin war cruisers they faced. The Emerson was out of range to engage, but with the Hades accompanying them, the numerical odds were still even. The actual odds... were considerably different.

The Nova-class dreadnought was one of the most powerful ships in known space. Although dwarfed by the largest Zentraedi ships, Tirolian motherships, and Earth's own SDFs, the Nova-class - designed to carry as many cannons on its hull as feasibly possible - still easily outgunned its Centauri, Narn, and League counterparts, and against a lighter ship like the Sharlin, it was no contest. The Hades and Emerson were both post-refit designs, eschewing the synchro cannons for additional double-barreled particle beam/laser turrets.

Particle lasers raked across the war cruisers, burning and melting through crystalline armor, carving through weapon mounts and gravitic drive fins alike.

* * *

><p><strong>October 29, 2245<strong>

**Alachai: Command chamber**

Iridenn stumbled and grabbed her console as the artificial gravity flickered. "Damage report!"

"We've lost the dorsal drive fin, Alyt," Radienn reported. "We've gone ballistic."

"Keep firing!" she ordered.

Another explosion thumped in some distant part of the ship, and the artificial gravity flicked again. One of the overhead beams dislodged and swung down, impacting the Alyt on the back of her head. Had she been human, the blow would have killed her instantly. As it was, she felt only a flash of pain, followed by darkness.

* * *

><p><strong>November 2, 2245<strong>

**Valen'zha: Command chamber**

Toroon studied the data from the reconnaissance flight. The colony of Deneb was well-defended, with an extensive network of orbital defense stations. However, as he had suspected, there were few warships in the Deneb system; most of the ships present appeared to be freighters or passenger craft, with limited armaments. There was also a curiously large gap in the orbital defense grid over the main colony. It appeared it was there to minimize the risk of collision from the traffic to and from the planet, but his instinct told him there was another reason.

He was not inclined to ignore his instinct.

"We will strike, now," he declared, a plan in mind.

* * *

><p><strong>November 2, 2245<strong>

**Deneb Orbital Defense Station Qixi: Watch station**

1Lt Eric Henn was leaning back in boredom when his console chirped suddenly. He sat up and checked the sensor board, and his eyes widened. He hollered, "Commander, we've got multiple jump points opening within the defense grid!"

The lieutenant commander froze in indecision for a long moment. As the standing watch officer, he was was responsible for the station at this moment. After a moment's hesitation, he barked out, "Battle stations, condition one!"

The alert spread throughout the orbital defense grid in seconds. Pilots scrambled to their fighters, secondary weapon systems began powering up, and tactical computers tagged the ships emerging from the jump points as hostile. The space stations began reorienting themselves to bring their main weapons in line as the Minbari ships emerged from the jump points, neutron lasers and fusion cannons blazing. From the surface below, a handful of surface-to-orbit missiles thundered into the sky, only to be swat down by defensive fire. Veritechs launched from space stations and surface facilities alike in ones and twos, chasing down the Minbari ships and strafing them even as they jumped out.

All told, the attack lasted less than twenty minutes.

* * *

><p><strong>Date unknown<strong>

**Location unknown**

Alyt Iridenn's head swam as she clawed her way back to consciousness. There was a bright light above her that burned her eyes, and she heard... something.

"...stage fright, go 'way. This is my big day..."

The voice - and the melody behind it - was low and tinny, as if from a very small speaker that was too far away. She tried to reach up to rub her eyes, but found her arms restrained. Her eyes snapped open.

"Sorry about the restraints." The voice was male, unfamiliar, and speaking in Interlac. "A necessary precaution, considering." The figure held a straw to her lips. "Here, drink. You're probably dehydrated."

She grudgingly accepted the water. After several swallows, she asked, "Where is my crew?"

"Your crew can wait," the man - a human - said. "**You** have a concussion, and I'm not letting you out of that bed until I'm sure you're not going to bleed to death from a brain hemorrhage or some other internal injury or die from some cross-species infection."

"You cannot keep me here," she snarled.

"I can and will."

"Your leader-"

"-**must** defer to me in medical emergencies where someone's life is in danger," he interrupted. "In this case, that's you. Now just relax and be still, or I **will** sedate you."

The Alyt had not been spoken to like that in many, many years, and it offended her. She did, however, do as she was told. Healers could be... touchy... when ignored.

* * *

><p><strong>November 5, 2245<strong>

**Deneb Council Hall: Situation room**

Governor Aaron Schmidt of Deneb Colony waited patiently while the Gold Channel connection was routed through Earthdome.

"How bad is it, Governor?" FAdm Lefcourt asked without preamble once his image appeared on-screen. When the attack had first struck three days ago, Earthdome had been notified immediately. This would be the first coherent report he'd be able to make since the Minbari left.

"Could be worse, Admiral, but not by much," the governor answered. "The Minbari jumped in right in our lines, and they somehow knew to avoid the grand cannon's clear fire field. We couldn't fire without killing our own people. Civilian casualties were light, but they could have slaughtered us easily. As it is, a quarter of our orbital defense grid is offline, and we barely touched them."

"Understood, Governor. Latest report from the reinforcements on the way indicate they should be arriving within the next day or so."

"Thank you, Admiral. I'll sleep a lot better once they're here."

* * *

><p><strong>November 8, 2245<strong>

**UES Prometheus: Brig**

Michael Jankowski mused thoughtfully as he and the Minbari captain stared at each other. Dr. Colson's report had been quite illuminating; superficial differences aside, it seemed the Minbari were almost human. They weren't as close as the Tirolians and Zentraedi had been, but they were actually closer than, say, the Invid or Centauri. Biochemically, they were indistinguishable, which meant that Minbari rations could be raided for his own personnel, extending their operational time.

He had received word before leaving Alliance space that a Minbari prisoner had been captured, but security protocols on this operation demanded that, barring emergencies, they would remain cut off from Earth for the duration of the mission except for prescheduled resupply rendezvous and encrypted, one-way burst fold comm transmissions to update High Command on his mission status.

"I don't have the facilities to keep prisoners long term or return you to Alliance space for detainment," he said, breaking the silence. "Fortunately, I have a solution."

"So," Alyt Iridenn responded scornfully, "you have healed us only to kill us, then?"

"Not quite the direction I was going, no," Michael said wryly. "One of your ships was only minimally damaged, and I've had work crews on it for the past week now, but I don't have the personnel to spare for a prize crew. It won't be fast, but life support should hold, and you should eventually be able to get your comm systems working again to call for a rescue."

The dawning realization and confusion on the Minbari's face brightened up his whole day. "Why?" she demanded. "Why would you do this?"

"Because we believe in sapient rights, basic civility, and common decency," he said. Rare as it was, they were ideals which had earned humanity victory time and time again, and he wasn't about to abandon them now.

"But our people are at war."

"That doesn't mean we have to become savages," Michael countered. "There is, however, one condition."

* * *

><p><strong>November 8, 2245<strong>

**UES Prometheus: Observation deck**

The Prometheus's captain and XO watched as the final repairs were made on captured Minbari vessel.

"Are you sure this is a good idea, Skipper?" Alan asked hesitantly. "Letting them go?"

"No," Michael admitted, "but it's a time-honored classic, and it's worked for Earth longer than anything else. They were given access to music and movies while we detained them, right?"

"Yes, sir."

Michael gave a short, sharp nod. "Good. Before they leave, make sure we 'accidentally' leave a few data crystals on their ship with whatever type of music and movies were most popular with them."

"Aye, sir. And the bodies?"

"Ours, we'll take care of once they're away," Michael said. There had been a few casualties among the veritech pilots, unfortunately. "As for theirs, prepare them for transport. They've requested that they be allowed to take them home for the appropriate funerary rites."

* * *

><p>Author's Postscript:<p>

I have a couple of questions for those readers suggesting tactics by which EarthForce could counter Minbari stealth. First, why exactly do you think this EarthForce would be capable of coming up with tactics that the OTL EarthForce couldn't think of? And we can infer just how effective those tactics were: not at all. Second, even if any of these myriad suggestions work, why exactly do you think the Minbari would be incapable of thinking of those very same tactics themselves?

If anyone here is under greater pressure to come up with new and innovative tactics that their OTL counterparts never tried in the OTL Earth-Minbari War, it would be the Minbari, not EarthForce. So, thanks for all the suggestions. You just gave the Minbari more tricks to use.


	8. Chapter 8

Title: Jumping at Shadows (8/?)

Author: Cyclone

Feedback: Please be gentle.

Distribution: Gimme credit and a link.

Rating: Nothing worse than on the shows, except maybe language.

Spoilers: After the end of one and before the beginning of the other.

Disclaimer: The characters depicted herein belong to other people. I'm just borrowing them for a while.

Summary: First contact between the United Earth Alliance and the Minbari Federation goes horribly wrong.

Author's Note: Consider this a sort of AU to The Thin Grey Line. Not exactly, as I've changed how some of the technology interacts, but sort of.

* * *

><p><strong>November 13, 2245<strong>

**Minbari space station**

Iridenn waited anxiously, looking over the graceful lines of the Alachai as it too waited in the space station's embrace. As it happened, the ship the humans had chosen to make spaceworthy again had in fact been her own flagship.

She didn't realize it, but she was also humming.

"...it's the final countdown..."

She blinked and bit her lip as the door opened. "Bordai," she said, "what did you find?"

The Worker Caste station commander shook his head. "Nothing."

"What?"

"The repairs were all done proficiently, if hastily and with crude tools," Bordai elaborated. "From our analysis, you would have been able to make it to the nearest hyperspace beacon without issue. As the humans said, it would have been slow... but you would have made it."

"And the rations they gave us?"

"If they were poisoned, it was not with anything harmful to Minbari," he said. "It appears they really just... let you go."

She bowed her head pensively and said, "They didn't **just** let us go, old friend. There was one condition their captain demanded."

"Oh?" he asked, his brow furrowing in suspicion.

"That we swear that we personally would not take up arms against the humans for the duration of this war," she answered, her voice heavy. Valen had once said, "Duty is heavy as a mountain, but death is lighter than a feather." She had not truly understood that until now. Never in her life had honor and duty clashed; never had she had to choose.

"Do you intend to honor this condition?" Bordai asked.

"How can I not?"

"Your crew and I are the only ones that know besides the human," Bordai pointed out. "And he is human. He is our enemy whom we seek to exterminate."

"**I** will know, and this is my honor that you tread on, Bordai," she snarled. "Tread carefully."

Bordai shrugged. "Valen once said 'Honor is a poor substitute for victory.'"

"Yet he also said 'Honor and shame from no condition rise; Act well your part, there all the honor lies,'" she reminded him. "The human acted well his part. How could I choose to be less honorable than he?"

Bordai had no answer to that. They stood in silent contemplation until he broke the silence. "You know what will happen to them."

She gave a curt nod. "They will be hunted down and killed," she said softly. "I understand War Leader Aeraan intends to take care of it personally."

* * *

><p><strong>November 30, 2245<strong>

**Icarna: Command chamber**

The Icarna was a Leshath scout ship with a crew of sixty-three, boasting some of the most advanced stealth and sensor systems known among the younger races. Currently, they were probing the edges of suspected human space, looking for as much intelligence as they could gather.

"Commander, I'm getting some unusual readings," one of the five sensor operators on duty reported. "They're reading almost like hyperspace beacons, except they were only there for a few seconds."

"Interesting..." mused Commander Tennoch. Hyperspace was full of strange anomalies, and odds were that this was just another one of them... but his instincts were telling him otherwise. Hyperspace beacons had to transmit in such a way as to stand out from the bizarre background noise of hyperspace, after all. That something should suddenly appear that resembled them was... unlikely. "Navigation, hold position. Let's see if we can chase down these ghost beacons."

* * *

><p><strong>December 3, 2245<strong>

**UES Lexington: Ward room**

Capt Roger Sterns reviewed the intel reports as he considered his next move. For the past month, a Minbari raiding force - five cruisers, according to their best intel - had been striking at targets in Alliance space; he had been given a small task force and the mission of finding them and taking them out. He had already had the jump gate sensors tied in to Lady Lex's fold comm, but given the Minbari had jump drives, that wouldn't be enough.

"I don't get it, John," Sterns admitted with a frustrated sigh. "There's just no pattern."

Lieutenant Commander (LtCmdr) John J. Sheridan studied the data. After gutting the orbital defenses at Deneb, the Minbari had launched a similar flyby raid on Arris Colony, albeit less devastating, followed by attacks on two convoys. The second had been lightly defended and had barely managed to get a distress call out, but the first... the first had been a military convoy bringing materials to rebuild Deneb's orbital defenses and had been accompanied by a suitable escort. The skirmish was short-lived, and the escorts had driven off the Minbari. It almost looked like...

"I don't think the Deneb convoy was planned, sir," Sheridan said finally. "Sensor data suggests they stumbled across each other."

"So?" Sterns asked. "What does that give us?"

"So... they still managed to ambush the **second** convoy, sir. Even though it was carrying military supplies, it was a civilian convoy using civilian encryption. If we don't know where they'll choose to hit, I say we choose for them. Give 'em a target."

* * *

><p><strong>December 7, 2245<strong>

**Space Station Ragnarok: Combat information center**

Operations Specialist Second Class (OS2) Nicholas Stevenson was bored. "The Rok" was one of the Spacy's outlying resupply and refit hubs, orbiting the gas giant of Pharos VII, and there wasn't much to look at.

There were no remotely habitable planets in the Pharos system, and though there were plenty of mineral resources available, they were fairly common materials, such as iron and carbon. In fact, Pharos was a singularly uninteresting star system, which was why it had been chosen for the location of Ragnarok Station. It was close to the anti-spinward border of Alliance space, but because of how unimportant the resources native to the system were, it could be kept off the beacon grid.

Well, mostly. Not all Alliance ships had fold drives; many still relied on jump points. In consideration for those ships, the Pharos system had a pulse beacon system. Given how out of the way Pharos was, the odds of any unauthorized ship being in range of any of the pulse beacons went it was transmitting were infinitesimal.

Nick frowned as something crossed his panel. "Hey, Ell-Tee," he called out. "Got something on the long-range scanners, Sector Forty-Two."

"What is it, Ops?"

"Not sure," Nick said, shaking his head. Sector 42 was at the very extreme range of their sensor envelope, so the data was inconclusive. Still... "Looks like a jump point, sir."

The lieutenant checked the schedule. "Hmm... the Vincennes is out on a shakedown cruise in that sector. Probably just checking out the jump drives. Nothing to worry about."

* * *

><p><strong>December 14, 2245<strong>

**UES Hotaru: Observation deck**

Cmdr Martin Reynolds was pensive as he looked out on the convoy his ship was escorting. The three massive Mule-class bulk cargo haulers, each easily dwarfing his own ship, were stuffed to the gills with thousands of tons of small arms, munitions, light combat vehicles, and miscellaneous spare parts destined for colonial militia. They were big and soft, tempting targets for any raider, which was why the convoy warranted a cruiser escort, despite being a civilian convoy. Hotaru was a Tyche-class cruiser, the workhorse of the Spacy after the post-Dilgar drawdown. Even without the fancy Shadow cloaks and pinpoint barriers, she was still a very capable ship, with particle lasers, reflex missiles, and refractive/ablative armor that made her a match for Dilgar warships twice her mass.

The word from on high was that a Tyche like Hotaru would be little more than cannon fodder against Earth's latest enemy, the Minbari, but Martin wasn't convinced. He and Hotaru had faced an awful lot together - raiders, insurrectionists, and even a Primus-class battlecruiser in one memorable "diplomatic incident" - and he wasn't about to give up on her that easily.

He looked up in surprise as klaxons sounding battle stations blared. "All hands, condition one. Repeat, all hands, condition one."

The floor suddenly pitched beneath him, nearly knocking him off his feet, as the cruiser pulled a maneuver that momentarily overwhelmed the inertial dampers.

"Wuo duh tian ah!" He had long ago discovered that Mandarin was surprisingly good for swearing.

* * *

><p><strong>December 14, 2245<strong>

**Valen'zha: Command chamber**

Toroon eyes widened marginally as the human warship evaded the fusion blast with a sharp twist and dive that should not have been possible for a ship that size. His respect for the humans went up another notch.

As his Sharlans lacked the neutron lasers of their Sharlin brethren - trading them out in favor of the more devastating but shorter ranged antimatter converters - Toroon did not have the luxury of picking apart the Earth cruiser at range, allowing Hotaru to escape the fate shared by every Tyche-class cruiser that had previously faced the Minbari as it closed hard, particle lasers blazing.

* * *

><p><strong>December 14, 2245<strong>

**UES Hotaru: Bridge**

Reynolds stormed onto the bridge. "Talk to me, Eileen!"

His XO, LtCmdr Eileen Zurich, answered grimly, "It doesn't look good, sir. We've got five Minbari heavy cruisers."

"And we're still alive?" There was a pregnant pause, and Reynolds shook his head. "Forget it. Wash, get us in closer. We're sitting ducks at range."

"You got it, Cap'n," replied Harold Washington, the on-duty helmsman.

"Incoming transmission, sir! Military band, priority one!"

"Commander Reynolds, fall back! Now!"

"What the-?" Reynolds looked up in surprise. "Who the hell is broadcasting on this channel?" he demanded. "This is for military use only!"

"Commander, I need you to fall back and regroup with the bulk haulers," the voice repeated. "It's all part of the plan."

"'Plan'? What goddamn plan? No one mentioned any plan to me. Who the hell are you, anyway?"

"Captain Roger Sterns of the UES Lexington. Now get your ass over here so we can lure these bastards in."

* * *

><p><strong>December 14, 2245<strong>

**Valen'zha: Command chamber**

_What are they doing?_ Toroon mused as the Earth cruiser suddenly reversed its course, now apparently intent on drawing away rather than close in. Still, the humans were leading them where they wanted to go, right in among the bulk haulers they would soon destroy.

Suddenly, something impacted the ship, overcoming the inertial compensators and throwing him off-balance. "What was that?" he demanded reflexively, even as he looked up and saw for himself. The bulk haulers they had intended to prey upon were tearing apart from within, each disgorging a pair of human heavy cruisers, far more dangerous than the cruiser they were pursuing.

He seethed. Five against six. They would probably emerge victorious, especially given their reserves, but that was not their mission. "Withdraw," he ordered. "Get us out of this trap."

* * *

><p><strong>December 14, 2245<strong>

**UES Lexington: Bridge**

"Here we go," Capt Sterns murmured. The ambush force consisted of six Hyperion-class heavy cruisers. Lady Lex was a command variant, but the Shoukaku, Zuikaku, and Tiresia were light patrol variants, stripping out the synchro cannon for another particle laser, ironically one of the ideal variants for the current war.

"Monty's engaging with railguns."

Sterns nodded. The UES Monument City, aka "Monty," was a railgun variant, boasting a pair of spinal-mount magnetic accelerator cannons in place of the forward particle laser and synchro cannon. With synchro cannons effectively neutralized, the Monty was the most heavily armed ship in the ambush force. One of the Minbari heavy cruisers shattered, its back broken by a pair of c-fractional tungsten darts.

"And the Yorktown?" he asked.

"Still maneuvering."

The Yorktown was a variable payload variant, a so-called "gunslinger," with a spinal MAC and a particle laser, giving it a diverse payload. The six Earth heavy cruisers pressed the attack on the five Minbari heavies, but the Minbari struck back with lethal accuracy, fusion cannons pulsing.

"Shoukaku's reporting engine damage, sir. She's falling behind."

Antimatter converters played across another cruiser's hull, striking harmlessly into its pinpoint barriers until, just a hair too slow, the pinpoint barriers failed to keep up. Suddenly, the outer layer of the heavy cruiser's thick armor began to violently annihilate itself, rupturing the hull.

"We just lost the Tiresia!"

Sterns frowned as he glanced at the tactical display. With the Shoukaku falling out of formation and the Tiresia venting atmo, that left their starboard flank weak.

"Minbari breaking to starboard!"

"Drop the hammer," he ordered.

He watched as a jump point opened on the far side of the Minbari raiding force, disgorging dozens of veritechs armed with reflex missiles as well as their mother ships, a pair of Hyperion-class heavy cruiser variants: the UES Ark Royal - an escort carrier variant that hauled thirty fighters, as many as a Nova-class dreadnought - and the UES Bismarck - a monitor variant that carried a synchro cannon and spinal magnetic accelerator cannon, trading out the jump drive to meet the massive power and space requirements.

* * *

><p><strong>December 14, 2245<strong>

**Valen'zha: Command chamber**

Alyt Toroon ground his teeth as the Heshan broke up from the powerful missiles fielded by the fighters that had attacked through the jump point. With the Tereta shattered in the initial ambush, that left him down two war cruisers and stuck in a vice between the human ships.

"Call in the reserves, coordinates one-fifty relative by thirty down by five hundred."

* * *

><p><strong>December 14, 2245<strong>

**UES Hotaru: Bridge**

"Skipper, we've got another jump point opening. Reading three Minbari heavy cruisers."

"Aw, hell," Reynolds muttered. "Wash, haul ass!"

"Haulin' ass, sir."

"Hotaru to Lexington," Reynolds hollered into the comm. "We've got bandits on our six, three heavies, comin' in hot!"

* * *

><p><strong>December 14, 2245<strong>

**UES Lexington: Bridge**

"Damn it," Sheridan hissed as he monitored the tactical display, updated with Hotaru's new information. Hotaru wasn't tied into the tacnet; to keep the Minbari from getting suspicious, they had left the Hotaru out of the loop, and integrating them into the tacnet was a very low priority at the moment. The Ark Royal and Bismarck didn't stand a chance against the Minbari cruisers on their own, not up close, but the rest of the task force would have to maintain full burn just to keep up in order to press the attack, leaving their sterns exposed to the three reserve ships that just jumped in. He shook his head and turned to offer his recommendation, "Captain..."

"I know," Sterns said, giving a short nod. "All ships, break off. Target the three heavies to our stern." Not that that would do much good; by his estimation, the main raiding force would be able to jump before they could properly target the three spoiler ships, leaving them free to jump clear themselves, but they couldn't just leave their sterns unguarded.

As the EarthForce ships turned to greet them, the three Minbari war cruisers opened fire. Unlike the five ships caught in the ambush, these three were Sharlins, not Sharlans. Neutron lasers that the Sharlan did not possess lanced out harmlessly, their gunners unable to target the Shadow cloaked Earth heavy cruisers effectively. The Earth ships replied with particle lasers and railgun rounds that were equally inaccurate. Behind the Earth heavy cruisers, the Sharlans made good their escape into jump space.

And Hotaru weaved in and out around the three Sharlins with preternatural grace.

* * *

><p><strong>December 14, 2245<strong>

**Arnash: Command chamber**

"Captain, the Valen'zha's group is away."

"Good," Captain Varain said, nodding. "Keep up the pressure. We'll give them one good volley as soon as we have a lock, then jump out."

Many of the Warrior Caste would have trouble with those orders, either giving them or obeying, but Alyt Toroon had chosen his people wisely. As Toroon was a Fire Wing, Varain and his crew were Moon Shields, a clan with a long tradition of striking fast and fading into the night.

* * *

><p><strong>December 14, 2245<strong>

**UES Hotaru: Bridge**

"Captain," Zurich murmured, "shouldn't we disengage? Let the heavies handle this?"

"Not a chance, Eileen," Reynolds said, shaking his head. "Up close, at least they'll have to worry about hitting each other. We try to make a break for it, they'll burn us down sooner'n we can get clear. They're so busy worrying about the heavies, they can't be bothered by us."

Which appeared to be the case, as the Minbari were only sending token shots their way from their secondary fusion cannons, apparently intent on suppressing them as they focused their attention - and their neutron lasers - on the four battle-ready Hyperions they were closing with.

"They'll burn us down if we open fire too, Captain," she pointed out.

"We run, we die; we fight, we die," Reynolds agreed. "So we don't do neither. Jim, we got targeting data on those heavies?"

"Just say the word, Boss," replied his weapons officer, 2Lt James Canton. "We've got a bank full o' missiles ready to go."

"Negative, Jim. Patch the data through to Comms."

* * *

><p><strong>December 14, 2245<strong>

**UES Lexington: Bridge**

Sheridan scowled at the tactical display. The three Minbari heavy cruisers would almost certainly be moving to disengage any moment now, and they hadn't managed to engage them properly yet. He blinked as new data scrolled across his display. "Captain, we're receiving targeting data from the Hotaru."

Sterns straightened up. "Patch it into the tac net, now!"

* * *

><p><strong>December 14, 2245<strong>

**Arnash: Command chamber**

"Abort!" Varain snarled as the incoming fire from the human ships suddenly became more accurate, shearing off the dorsal drive fin of one of his Sharlins and sending it on a ballistic course. "Open a jump point **now!**" With luck, they would be able to recover the damaged war cruiser.

A jump point formed before them, and the three Minbari warships vanished through it, leaving Hotaru's battered hull in their wake.

* * *

><p><strong>December 14, 2245<strong>

**UES Hotaru: Bridge**

"We alive?"

* * *

><p>Author's Postscript:<p>

Yet another skirmish between the two sides.


	9. Chapter 9

Title: Jumping at Shadows (9/?)

Author: Cyclone

Feedback: Please be gentle.

Distribution: Gimme credit and a link. Plus, archived at .net/u/62966 or .net/~cyclone

Rating: Nothing worse than on the shows, except maybe language.

Spoilers: After the end of one and before the beginning of the other.

Disclaimer: The characters depicted herein belong to other people. I'm just borrowing them for a while.

Summary: First contact between the United Earth Alliance and the Minbari Federation goes horribly wrong.

Author's Note: Consider this a sort of AU to The Thin Grey Line. Not exactly, as I've changed how some of the technology interacts, but sort of.

* * *

><p><strong>December 17, 2245<strong>

**UES Meriwether Lewis: Bridge**

The Meriwether Lewis was an Oracle-class scout cruiser, optimized for reconnaissance and the smallest ship in current production with both fold drive and Shadow cloak, making it the smallest ship capable of independent faster-than-light travel. The Oracle-class boasted the best military sensors Earth could build, and though it was lacking in proper surveying equipment, it was excellent for initial planetary surveys, marking promising planets for follow up by an Explorer-class.

Up until the war, the Lewis had been scouting out planets, a duty that its commanding officer, First Lieutenant (1Lt) Thomas Kincaid, had been quite content with.

Kincaid resisted the urge to drum his fingers against his command console as the ship defolded and scooted away. FTL was the downside to any stealth mission. Jump points were easily detected, and even the more subtle hyperspace fold drive created a gravitational distortion that anyone with the right equipment could pick up. For months, this had been their mission, to chart out star systems in Minbari space based on astronomical data, then fold there and check it out, looking for any military assets.

"Captain, I think we just hit the jackpot."

Kincaid frowned and pulled up the data. His eyes widened, and he let out a low whistle. "That's a lot of ships. Begin piping this back, now. We'll do one full scan, then bug out. With that much hardware, there's no way they didn't see us coming."

He took a moment to force the tension out of his body. Chewing on his lower lip, Kincaid frowned as he noted a smaller - though no less impressive - group of Minbari ships forming up on each other. "Janet, confirm those readings on sector three-one-four."

"Readings confirmed, Skipper."

"That's too big to be a patrol," he muttered, shaking his head, "and they're not in a convoy formation. That's an attack fleet."

And there was only one target he could think of anywhere nearby that would need that kind of fleet.

* * *

><p><strong>December 24, 2245<strong>

**Drala Fi: Command chamber**

Shai Alyt Aeraan, War Leader of the Minbari fleet, studied the holographic display pensively. This would be the first major battle with the humans, and after Jericho, it was clear the humans were not to be underestimated. While there had been battles before, not to mention numerous hit and fade raids by both sides, they were small affairs, no more than a couple dozen ships on either side. Now, he was bringing a truly mighty fleet. Five hundred war cruisers and their attendant support ships lurked in hyperspace, ready to begin the attack on his command.

Given their target, he only hoped it was enough.

"Begin."

* * *

><p><strong>December 24, 2245<strong>

**Space Station Ragnarok: Commodore's quarters**

Commodore (Cdre) Adam Williams sighed as he went through the paperwork. Commanding Ragnarok Station - affectionately known as "the Rok" - was a terminal posting; it was supposed to just be maintenance and refit reports until he retired, but the war turned everything on its head. Ragnarok was closer to the Minbari border than any other factory satellite Earth had, and the traffic and work load had increased tenfold. He was at least a week behind.

He froze as he stared at one particular communique, rereading the misfiled document several times in disbelief.

_If we survive this, someone's ass is **mine**,_ he thought viciously as he rose to his feet, only to nearly fall, catching himself on the edge of his desk as the room suddenly rocked.

* * *

><p><strong>December 24, 2245<strong>

**Space Station Ragnarok: Combat information center**

"Sitrep!" Williams demanded as he stormed into the CIC, his voice pitched to be heard over the blaring klaxons.

"It's the Minbari, sir," OS2 Stevenson reported.

"How many?"

"Um, all of them, I think."

The commodore shot the operations specialist a withering glare, but Stevenson simply pointed to the main viewer and fed the tactical sensor data there. Williams paled.

Turning to the watch officer, he asked patiently, "Can I assume all defense systems are online and the alert squadrons are away?"

"Yes, sir, and the reserve mecha are scrambling. All patrol ships are heading back. First group ETA, thirty minutes."

"We don't have thirty minutes. What about the ships in dock? Anything battleworthy?"

"Umm..." the lieutenant turned to the task at hand.

Shaking his head, Williams left him to his task and turned to another petty officer. "What about the omni-directional?"

"They jumped in within the barrier's perimeter, sir," OS2 Victoria Gottfried answered.

"That's insane," Williams muttered. Although jump drives were cheaper and didn't require the complex calculations of fold drives, they had another drawback besides their slower FTL speed: They simply weren't accurate. With all the variations and gravitational eddies in jump space, it just wasn't possible to open a jump point from jump space more precisely than within several thousand kilometers, no matter how good their computers were. And Earth computers were **very** good at number-crunching, a necessity for accurate hyperspace folds, which, by comparison, could be narrowed down to a few hundred **meters**.

_Then again, the Minbari **have** had a lot longer to refine jump space tech,_ he mused. The Centauri, he knew, were a lot more accurate with their jump points than Earth ships were, but even they wouldn't have risked jumping in so close. Overlapping jump points was a mistake no one ever made twice, and even ignoring **that**, there was also the risk opening them too close to each other and colliding upon transition to normal space.

* * *

><p><strong>December 24, 2245<strong>

**Pharos system: Orbit of Pharos VII**

Hundred of swirling blue jump points disgorged Minbari warships of all shapes and sizes in near perfect formation. Sharlin war cruisers, Tinashi war frigates, Tigara attack cruisers, alongside many, many variants lunged forward on the attack against the biggest target any of these warriors had ever seen.

"In Valen's name! Look at the size of that thing!"

Forty kilometers across, Space Station Ragnarok consisted of a central hub structure measuring over twelve kilometers across alone and five smaller factory pods, all connected to the central hub by armatures several hundred meters thick. Docking arms and clamps poked out from the station's skin, holding close to two hundred dreadnoughts and cruisers and countless smaller ships.

Neutron lasers, fusion cannons, and antimatter converters spat destructive energy into the massive hull of Ragnarok Station and the ships docked along it. Particle lasers, pulsed plasma cannons, autocannons, railguns, and conventional lasers and particle beam cannons answered. Missiles and veritech fighters swarmed out from recessed bays, but their numbers were pitiful against the Minbari onslaught.

* * *

><p><strong>December 24, 2245<strong>

**UES Murmansk: Bridge**

Cmdr Lydia Courtland's eyes darted to the navigational display. Her patrol was part of Space Station Ragnarok's defense flotilla, and they were the closest to the station. One Hyperion-class command cruiser, three refit Tyche-class cruisers, and six refit Olympus-class corvettes raced toward their home port at full burn. They had discarded the thought of folding in; the power draw would have left them far too vulnerable.

"Captain, we've got three Minbari heavies plus escorts moving to intercept."

_Arrogant bastards,_ she thought. "All ships, fire missiles, full spread."

Like almost all Earth ships, the Hyperion and Tyche could carry generous stocks of a wide variety of missiles, ranging from tiny counter-missiles to the ubiquitous anti-mecha missiles to massive ship-killing reflex missiles, but it was the Olympus-class corvettes that shone here.

The Olympus was designed primarily as a short-ranged, intrasystem patrol ship, with an eye toward supporting fleet engagements if necessary. With this in mind, there were no qualms about loading the Olympus with powerful but ammunition-hungry railguns and stuffing the frame with as many missiles as physically possible.

From the ten-ship force, hundreds of missiles arced out on randomized evasive vectors until their visual-tracking terminal guidance systems kicked in. Many would never make it that far, as the Minbari warships engaged them, swatting them down by the dozen. The colossal expense the humans were willing to throw away with disposable weapons boggled the Minbari warriors facing them. For every missile shot down, it seemed three more took its place. The Minbari gunners were skilled, however, and they continued to hold off the onslaught of missiles. Neutron lasers and fusion cannons began to overheat from the constant firing... and then the Earth cruisers opened fire.

Particle lasers raked across the Minbari ships, but again, it was the corvettes who dealt the mortal blows, railguns thundering with such force as to cause the corvettes themselves to shudder, nearly deafening their crew even as they fractured and shattered crystalline armor.

"Status!" Lydia snapped.

"We lost the Camlann and the Dien Bien Phu." Those were two of their corvettes. "We've got more boneheads breaking off to engage: a dozen heavies."

There was only one thing Lydia could say to that.

"Shit."

* * *

><p><strong>December 24, 2245<strong>

**UES Thunder Child: Furnace room**

"Come on! Come on! Hop to!" Senior Chief Electrician's Mate (EMCS) Hiroshi Simpson roared. "We're burnin' daylight here! That reflex furnace isn't going to start itself!"

"Simpson, what's the status?" that was the Chief Engineer on the radio, LtCmdr Corwin Anat.

Hiroshi held up his hand to his helmet and activated the built-in radio. "Auxiliary power's online, sir. We should have the mains on in another three or four minutes."

"Good. We'll be casting off then."

That stopped the senior chief petty officer short. "On auxiliary?"

"Skipper wants us moving ASAP. A moving target is harder to hit."

"Understood, sir."

UES Thunder Child's thrusters flared to life. The docking clamps screeched and groaned in complaint until they finally broke free, the squeal of tortured metal lost in the vacuum of space as contact with the hull was lost. Within minutes, the mighty dreadnought was free of her restraints and under way.

* * *

><p><strong>December 24, 2245<strong>

**Space Station Ragnarok: Combat information center**

Cdre Williams stood silently, hands clasped behind his back, as he watched the updates flash across tactical display. With the pinpoint barrier systems online, the sound of weapons fire on the station now seemed distant and faint.

The sound of his command dying.

"Sir, Armature Four is losing integrity. They're burning their way through. Damage control's on it."

He looked at the tactical display. Armature Four and Hub Four were a mass of oranges and reds, and several areas had gone black.

"Belay that," he said, his voice crisp and hard. "Seal it off. Have them set the scuttle charges for remote detonation and withdraw to Hub Central. Once they're clear, reroute power away from pinpoint systems twenty through twenty-four back to the main grid and intensify defensive fire around Hubs One and Three."

"Sir?"

"We can't save it," he said harshly, "and I'm not going to throw more lives away trying. It's time to amputate."

"But there are thousands of people in that Hub, sir!"

"Then they've got thirty minutes to find a way out."

* * *

><p><strong>December 24, 2245<strong>

**Space Station Ragnarok: Hub Four**

"God damned bastard!" the brawny man snarled, slamming his fist against the wall.

"What's going on, Chief?"

"That f*cking pencil pusher just signed our death warrants," Chief Petty Officer (CPO) John Bliss snarled, turning to his deck crew. "We're getting out of here. Anything spaceworthy?"

Brushing a few stray strands of blonde hair out of her eyes, Petty Officer Third Class (PO3) Victoria Wells shook her head. "There's a shuttle one deck down, couple of 'Furies."

"Let's go," Bliss said, leading the dozen deck hands to the nearest access.

* * *

><p><strong>December 24, 2245<strong>

**UES Thunder Child: Bridge**

Cmdr Donald Miller's eyes darted across his status displays as his ship moved to join the fight. Thunder Child had just been refit, trading out the synchro cannons for additional double particle laser cannons, and as such, she wasn't fully loaded for combat; there was only a skeleton crew on board, and her missile banks and veritech hangar bays were empty.

"We can't win this fight," he said quietly. He looked over at the rest of his bridge crew. "All we can do is do as much damage as we can, maybe save the station. Or we can run, try to survive long enough to fold out of this mess and report back to HICOM."

HICOM referred to the United Earth Defense Force High Command. One step below the Joint Chiefs of Staff, High Command directed EarthForce's overall strategy according to the mandates set by the Minister of Defense and the JCS.

He met his bridge crew's gazes, silent, not judging. He'd poll the rest of the crew if he could.

1Lt Bridget Wong spoke first, the weapons officer shaking her head, "I never much liked running from a fight."

The rest soon nodded with a murmur of agreement.

Miller closed his eyes and nodded, then brought up the navigational display. "Nielson, alter course, fifteen degrees starboard, thirty degrees up relative. All ahead full."

"Aye, Captain."

That course would take them right into the thickest cluster of Minbari ships, well over fifty heavy cruisers. The dreadnought turned and charged into the fray.

Thunder Child's weapons blazed, spitting raw energy that swept through the Minbari lines. For every three seconds that passed, eighteen pairs of particle laser cannons spoke again, and with every beam that lanced out, more Minbari died.

But mighty as she was, Thunder Child was only one ship. Neutron lasers and fusion cannons pummeled the dreadnought from all directions. Fusion blasts overwhelmed the interceptors, even as neutron lasers ignored them completely. Pinpoint barriers struggled and failed to halt the incoming storm, absorbing only a fraction of the attacks.

Slowly but surely, pieces of the mighty dreadnought were carved away, until she drifted inert. As the final ergs from her reflex furnace guttered and died, she fired one last defiant volley, burning down two more Sharlins.

* * *

><p><strong>December 24, 2245<strong>

**Space Station Ragnarok: Hub Four**

Bliss glanced over his shoulder as he settled into the pilot seat. "Everyone secure?"

Crewman First Class (C1C) Hector Munoz gave him a thumbs up. "We're all good, Chief!"

"All right, sailors!" Bliss cheered as he brought the shuttle online. "We are **leaving!**"

The shuttle lifted off, swaying back and forth unsteadily before its thrusters flared.

The scuttle charges detonated, engulfing the shuttle in flames, but moments later, the scarred spacecraft emerged from the flames. Behind the shuttle, Hub Four's skin bubbled and boiled as volatile chemicals, reactors, and protoculture stores lit off in an all-consuming chain reaction.

Bliss breathed a sigh of relief. "That was too close. **Way** too fu-"

A spinning shard of metal slightly over eighteen meters long cleaved the shuttle in two as it flew past, then carved a Minbari frigate's belly open, venting atmosphere.

* * *

><p><strong>December 24, 2245<strong>

**Drala Fi: Command chamber**

Aeraan watched the holographic display dispassionately, quick motions and words commanding the mighty fleet in the destruction of the human starbase. The forces amassing here simply stood as further proof of the threat the humans posed. He took a moment and detached another dozen war cruisers and escorts to target a straggling cluster of human warships, the last visible sign of resistance.

Twelve Sharlins was probably overkill, but here and now, he had the resources to spare, and after losing three Sharlins to a returning patrol, he wasn't about to risk underestimating them again. The humans had already sacrificed a whole section of their space station to wreak havoc with his fleet, after all - while the war cruisers had only been battered, the escort ships nearby had been shredded - and then there had been that dreadnought that had emerged from one of the other pods, weapons blazing.

"Gut the station," he said coldly. "Destroy everything. I don't want any more surprises."

* * *

><p>Author's Postscript:<p>

And the war just kicked into high gear.


	10. Chapter 10

Title: Jumping at Shadows (10/?)

Author: Cyclone

Feedback: Please be gentle.

Distribution: Gimme credit and a link.

Rating: Nothing worse than on the shows, except maybe language.

Spoilers: After the end of one and before the beginning of the other.

Disclaimer: The characters depicted herein belong to other people. I'm just borrowing them for a while.

Summary: First contact between the United Earth Alliance and the Minbari Federation goes horribly wrong.

Author's Note: This is what a lot of you have been waiting for for quite some time now. Credit to Ash's Boomstick for writing several of the scenes in this chapter.

* * *

><p><strong>December 27, 2245<strong>

**Earthdome, New York City: Prime Minister's office**

Prime Minister Levy let out a tired sigh. "How bad is it, Scott?" she asked plainly.

"Bad," the Minister of Defense replied. "They hit us hard. We lost a factory satellite, the hull laid down for the SDF-23, fifty-three Nova-class dreadnoughts, over a hundred and fifty cruisers and heavy cruisers, and hundreds of lighter ships. Saving grace out of this mess is that they didn't stick around to steal our tech, and we can salvage a lot of what's left. The only really **good** news is they seemed to have overlooked the fuel refinery station."

"Casualties?"

"Still coming in," Scott said. "But most of the crews were on leave on nearby colonies while their ships were being refit. Still, we're looking at around seventy thousand dead."

"Damn it," she hissed. After they'd found human DNA in their prisoner, there had been hope of a peaceful resolution, but this swept that off the table. "When can we launch the offensive?"

"We're not ready yet," he answered. "We've got a target, and refits are almost complete, but we still need a few more weeks."

"Then come up with something," she snapped. "After something like this, we **have** to retaliate immediately somehow. We haven't been hurt this badly since Liberty."

Scott sighed. "HICOM's floated me an idea. We can cobble together a task force around Fortress Group Twenty-Two, launch a raid, do some damage, but we won't be able to take and hold the system. Problem is, if we screw it up, it'll delay the offensive even further, maybe force us to change targets entirely, which means more time lost to recon."

"Do it," she said, her voice quiet but firm. "We need a win, Scott, and soon."

* * *

><p><strong>December 31, 2245<strong>

**Space Station Veracity: Observation deck**

2Lt Jeffrey Sinclair peered through the observation bubble and watched in ill-disguised awe as the SDF-22 Vindicator drifted majestically into view, the Earth providing a gorgeous backdrop behind it. Over two kilometers long, the SDF-22 held more firepower and mecha than most battle groups, with twin reflex cannons, dozens of synchro cannons and capital-scale particle laser turrets, hundreds of ship-to-ship missile launchers, and thousands of anti-mecha weapon systems. The last time an SDF had been committed to battle had been during the Dilgar Invasion, and in a straight fight, an SDF could fight off an entire Dilgar fleet single-handedly; the Minbari would be the first real test of an SDF's capabilities in generations. Alongside it were the rest of SDFG-22: three Hyperion-class heavy cruisers, six Tyche-class cruisers, and a dozen each of Olympus-class corvettes and Artemis-class escort frigates.

The Artemis-class escort frigate had yet to see combat against the Minbari, and for good reason. Developed decades ago, the Artemis had been equipped with an impressive missile payload and the densest, longest-ranged, most sophisticated interceptor grid available, all with the intent to blunt enemy missile swarms and destroy hostile mecha squadrons before they could deploy anti-ship torpedos... only for such a threat - so prominent during the Third Robotech War - to never materialize. Since then, the Artemis had been largely retired, relegated to anti-raider operations and escorting the Spacy's most valuable warships, the Super Dimensional Fortresses. Just in case.

"Admiral on deck!"

Jeff turned, snapping to attention as the admiral stepped into the room. Vice Admiral (VAdm) Michael Fontaine gazed over the crowd of pilots gathered together.

"At ease," he said, his voice carrying across the obs deck. "Welcome to Operation Doolittle. This is our chance to hit 'em where they live."

He paused and touched a control panel, causing a holographic display of a planet surrounded by Minbari ships to appear above the assembled crowd. "Fold scouts have located a large Minbari fleet, estimated in the thousands, apparently in storage and being prepped for combat. This is where they hit Pharos from."

A disgruntled murmur rose from the crowd, but Fontaine ignored it. "We don't know what our time window is, so we're leaving as soon as this briefing's over. We'll be taking Fortress Group Twenty-Two, six Macbeth-class monitors, three Avenger-class assault carriers, and as many fighters with reflex missiles as we can find pilots for. We're going into the very heart of Minbari space, and we're going to do as much damage as we can before we bug out. This is a high-risk mission, thousand to one odds if we're wrong about the status of those ships. We're calling for volunteers."

Every man and woman present stepped forward.

* * *

><p><strong>December 31, 2245<strong>

**SDF-22 Vindicator: Hangar bay**

Jeff popped the canopy of his Shadowfury and vaulted out, taking advantage of the 0.8 artificial gravity maintained in the hangar bay, then took a moment to survey the hangar. Within moments, he was making his way to the ward room.

"Second Lieutenant Jeffrey Sinclair, reporting," he said, saluting.

"At ease, Lieutenant," the tall, gangly redhead said dismissively. "I'm Commander Iris Taylor. Welcome to the Skulls."

"Glad to be here, ma'am."

"You're just off a two year hitch as an instructor at the Academy, right?"

"Yes, ma'am," he answered warily.

"I've flown with your father, kid," she said. "Don't worry; you'll shake the rust off in no time. It's in your blood."

* * *

><p><strong>January 3, 2246<strong>

**Valen'tha: Council chamber**

"Given the amount of materiel we destroyed," War Leader Aeraan said, "I can confidently assure you that we have dealt a major setback to the human fleet and possibly blunted any future attempt to take the initiative. Still, these were ships undergoing refit and construction; they were not active-duty line ships, so there is still much work to be done."

He was just finishing up his report to the Grey Council. The Valen'tha was in orbit over Tarellan, one of the Minbari Federation's oldest colonies. Tarellan was home to the largest Minbari shipyard near the border toward Earth space, and as such, it was where more many of the ships constructed in preparation for the Shadow War - more than two thousand ships - were being refit for active duty. The shipyards here over Tarellan were a massive sprawl of space stations, each smaller than the human station they had attacked and destroyed but connected to each in a latticework that allowed them to support ten times as many ships.

"Excellent work, Aeraan," Morann said. He opened his mouth to say something further when there came a fuss at the entrance to the chamber. "What is the meaning of this?"

The young Warrior who sought entrance bowed humbly. "I do not mean to intrude, Satai, but we are detecting a number of gravitational disturbances. We were ordered to report these as soon as possible."

"By whom?"

"By me," Hedronn said, throwing his hood back and stepping forward into the light. "How many?"

"Three, Satai."

"Then we must go to arms," he said.

"What is the meaning of this, Hedronn?" Coplann demanded.

"The Anla'shok have been gathering intelligence on the humans," the Worker Caste Satai answered. "The humans do not always use jump points, but when they do not, a gravitational disturbance always precedes them. One of these grav waves can carry a handful ships, so three would be a sizable raiding party, and we are not ready."

* * *

><p><strong>January 3, 2246<strong>

**Tarellan far orbit**

In a flash of multicolored light, three Avenger-class assault carriers appeared a mere half-million kilometers away from the planet... and much closer to the orbital shipyards.

At eight hundred meters, the Avenger-class assault carrier was about the size of an escort carrier or long patrol variant Hyperion, but unlike Hyperions, Avengers lacked jump engines, instead relying on their much smaller fold drives for FTL travel. This freed up a considerable amount of space, allowing an Avenger to carry and rapidly deploy a full thirty-two squadrons of veritech fighters. Armored hangar bay door swung open, and the assault carriers each disgorged four hundred and eighty veritech fighters, a mix of Aurora Shadowfuries and Badger Strike Furies.

Aboard the lead Avenger, the UES Alexander, VAdm Fontaine stared out at the immense shipyards and the ships that made up their primary target, curling around out of sight around the far side of the planet. The destruction of "the Rok" had angered EarthForce and its Spacy contingent far more than any other single attack in living memory, and now, they would get their revenge.

Appropriate, then, the ships that would lead the attack.

"All monitors, this is the flag. Engage main weapons and lock on to primary targets. Assault squadrons, enter formation Bravo Zero and await the go order."

Alongside each of the Avengers floated a pair of Macbeth-class monitors. At just over four hundred and fifty meters long, the Macbeth crammed sublight engines, crew quarters, and an oversized reflex furnace into the rear fifty meters of hull. The forward four hundred meters were dedicated to a pair of massive fixed booms that earned them the nickname "Devil's Horseshoe." High energy particles began collecting between them as the reflex cannons charged.

"Sir, all monitors have begun charging, twenty seconds to main weapon discharge." The Alexander's chief sensor officer informed the vice admiral. "All ships are in formation."

* * *

><p><strong>January 3, 2246<strong>

**Valen'tha: Council chamber**

The Nine stood watching the arrival of the human warships. A bare handful were in full view, all unlike any of the others they had been able to destroy in the conflict so far.

"I do not recognize these ships."

"Then the humans have other ships in their fleet that we have not yet been able to see, perhaps new prototypes of more powerful vessels that are kept in their home sectors."

"Launch defensive fighters and power up the shipyard perimeter defenses. This force will be less than useless against our warriors," Morann scoffed. "Still, it would be prudent not to allow them too close in case they are able to cause even a slight confusion in the refit of our ships."

"Agreed," Coplann said, "but be wary, Morann. The humans have caused us harm in the past; the fact we are able to see their ships tells me they want us to know they are there."

"These ships may not have the stealth technology, but we will dispatch the defense ships as well as our own escorts to take the humans on. At three to one odds, the humans will be unable to cause much damage."

"That is odd," one worker Satai spoke up.

"Shokaar?"

"Their ships are not closing. They are, in fact, launching a great many fighters, so many that we are finding it difficult to keep track. What is more, immense power readings are coming from six of the nine ships. I have only ever seen readings like this from jump points or... in Valen's name!"

"What is it?"

"It has to be a weapon, far more powerful than anything I have seen before. As powerful as a Vorlon ship... if not more so."

"Impossible!" Morann exclaimed. "Order the defensive ships to close and fire, shipyard defenses to long range."

* * *

><p><strong>January 3, 2246<strong>

**UES Alexander: Bridge**

"The Minbari have seen us: Fighters are launching; defense turrets are going active."

On the ship's main sensor display, the admiral could see the small number of his capital ships unleashing hundreds upon hundreds of fighters. Each veritech was a match for the Fencers the Minbari deployed. Better yet, he had pilfered the best pilots and best fighters for the job and was willing to use them. The Auroras had already proven themselves deadly in much smaller numbers. The incoming warships... they would deal with them when the time came, but for the moment, they all had a job to do, and he was going to enjoy this immensely.

The enemy defenses were too little and far, far too late.

"This is Admiral Fontaine to all monitors... fire at will."

Each of the split prongs aboard the monitors shone with pent up energy, the power of reflex furnaces feeding every erg into the main weapons of these singular and capable ships. As one, the ships pointed their noses towards the Minbari station.

And then as one... they fired.

Space itself seemed to ignite as six beams of destructive energy swept across huge sections of the Minbari shipyards. Crystalline armor designed to give a scant few seconds' protection against the deadly beam weapons of the Shadows held better against this onslaught - better even than Earth's own robotech alloys would have fared - but eventually, even they failed, fusing, popping, and literally boiling away under the raw fury of the attack, entire vessels and stations vaporized by the pure energy of the human weapons, destroying hundreds of years of work in bare moments.

The Macbeths moved on, playing their beams across the surface, keeping the weapons from penetrating any further than they had to into the depths of the Minbari stations, the huge cannons completely stripping the ships and shipyards of their armor. When the beams finally ceased - seconds that seemed to draw out into days - the Badgers moved in.

The VSA-25A Badger Veritech Strike Fury was designed to complement the faster and more agile Aurora. Heavily armored and slower than its counterpart, the Badger boasted a pair of powerful particle pulse cannons, a 100mm smoothbore railgun pod, and multiple hardpoints. The Badgers here moved even more sluggishly than normal, each laden down with a quartet of reflex missiles.

The Badgers closed in on the shipyard by the hundreds as they accelerated, and then as they launched, they pulled up, unleashing their weapons and allowing momentum to do the dirty work. So close and without warning, there was no defense that could possibly stop the missile bombardment, the veritechs accelerated away and flying along the crushed and skinned ships, crippled stations and flattened shipyards. Over a thousand reflex missiles rippled out, burying themselves in groups or singularly into the now-exposed superstructures.

The detonations tore huge sections of the shipyards apart.

* * *

><p><strong>January 3, 2246<strong>

**Valen'tha: Council chamber**

The assembled Satai shut their eyes or covered their faces with hoods and sleeves as the flash of energy passed by their ship, blasting deep into the dry docks and shipyards and destroying everything in their paths. Bright lights and immense explosions almost flash-blinded those who were too slow in covering their faces. Soundless destruction continued in front of them as the beams continued to slice through supports and ships both, simply annihilating everything they touched.

Only moments later, the beams stopped.

"How?" Delenn gasped. "How is this possible?"

"It shouldn't be. Nothing in the universe could be that powerful. **Nothing!**" Morann shouted.

What they could see was nothing short of horrendous, billions of tons of shipyards and slipways were now twisted and broken, massive crystalline and metal structures now shrapnel and frozen nodules of molten metal. Blackened and cracked hundreds to thousands of meters deep, where the precious warships had been under refit, so many of them gone within a blink of an eye or mangled to the point that they could no longer be recognized by their creators.

The few fighters and short range craft that had been launched were no longer even visible, their atoms separated as they were intercepted by the bright beams, dissociating every one of them from the others. Over a hundred thousand of the best workers and warriors the Minbari Federation could gather had been wiped out in an instant, unable to escape from the attack.

Still staring at the carnage that the encroaching enemy ships had wrought, the Grey Council was slow to realize that the EarthForce vessels had not yet finished their attack. Due to the great distance, the Minbari were unable to see the hundreds upon hundreds of fighters launching massively powerful warheads into the open faces of the yards or past them into undamaged areas. Still all but invisible, the now retreating craft were completely masked by the millions of megatons of explosive force that erupted from the previously untouched bays.

Waves of destruction swallowed up the remaining ships and yards by the dozens. Nothing was spared by the human's incredibly powerful weaponry. Sharlins, Tinashis, Sharlans, a handful of precious Shargotis, Morshins, thousands of Nials and Flyers simply vanished in the fire of reflex detonations. Shrapnel flew from the explosions, cutting through yet more of the constructs and causing more carnage as the damaged areas were exposed to vacuum.

Those few ships under power moved away from the docks, attempting to escape their fates to no avail, several holed by flying debris or engulfed in explosive force. A small handful of escorts protected from harm by the bulks of the larger capital ships made it out, heading for the defense ships already heading for the human force.

Nearly a quarter of the shipyards were gone. Over five hundred warships and tens of thousands of fighters gone in barely five minutes and more than a hundred thousand Minbari with them. A heresy unlike anything that they had been forced to face before.

"This cannot be," Rathenn whispered. "It just cannot be possible."

"What have we done?" Delenn murmured.

"We have done **nothing!**" Morann shouted. "The humans have attacked us, and they must pay for the damage they have caused here. They began this war and have now simply advanced our cause against them. Order every ship left into formation against those human vessels. Do not let them escape!"

* * *

><p><strong>January 3, 2246<strong>

**UES Alexander**

Aboard the Spacy warships, it was a very different scene. The moment the explosions ripped apart the Minbari fleet yards, cheers and shouts had rippled throughout the fleet. The loss of Space Station Ragnarok had been relatively small compared to the devastation that burned in front of them. Most of the ships had been empty and the construction automated, leaving a far smaller number of people aboard but this... this was something far, far nastier.

Revenge was sometimes best served quickly and with overwhelming firepower.

"Report," Fontaine ordered.

"Sir, all monitors have secured from firing stations. They report ten minutes to full weapons power," his XO reported. "First and second waves have reported successful launch and impact of missiles, third wave is on standby."

"Status of primary target?"

"Destroyed, sir. Primary and secondary have been neutralized completely," Stevens continued. "The King Lear reports a visual on Minbari ships coming in on vector one-one-nine, at least twenty vessels, tentatively identified as a mix of Angel Fish and Shark classes, along with a third type of cruiser we haven't seen before."

"Raise the Shadow cloak, and rearm all returning veritechs with anti-mecha missiles," Fontaine smirked, "and send my regards to the SDF-22. Time for them to join the party."

* * *

><p>Author's Postscript:<p>

A side note. Due to the changes in the timeline and the miniaturization technology available, the Jumping at Shadows universe version of various B5 ships are about 25% smaller than their OTL counterparts.


	11. Chapter 11

Title: Jumping at Shadows (11/?)

Author: Cyclone

Feedback: Please be gentle.

Distribution: Gimme credit and a link.

Rating: Nothing worse than on the shows, except maybe language.

Spoilers: After the end of one and before the beginning of the other.

Disclaimer: The characters depicted herein belong to other people. I'm just borrowing them for a while.

Summary: First contact between the United Earth Alliance and the Minbari Federation goes horribly wrong.

Author's Note: I normally don't bother with suggesting music for my 'fics - what, if anything, you listen to while reading my stories is your business, not mine - but for this chapter, I highly recommend listening to some version of We Will Win. Once again, credit to Ash's Boomstick for writing several of the scenes in this chapter.

* * *

><p><strong>January 3, 2246<strong>

**Tarellan far orbit**

It was a rather rag tag remnant that made up the battle group that charged toward the nine human warships, a mix of about twenty ships, including Sharlin war cruisers, Troligan armored cruisers, and Tinashi war frigates. Most of them were part of the defense flotilla, though some were merely survivors who had managed to escape the devastation wrought upon the nearby shipyards. Among the Minbari who crewed those ships, Warrior and Worker Caste alike, there was a single overriding desire: to make these humans pay.

Responding more slowly were ships from other, untouched sections of the shipyards, from closer to the planet or even around the far side of the planet entirely. Hundreds of ships were casting off or already underway, their crews a mix of anyone that could be found to take a position and stay there, and like their brothers on the defense ships, they would find a way to make the humans bleed for their actions.

* * *

><p><strong>January 3, 2246<strong>

**UES Alexander: Bridge**

VAdm Fontaine kept one eye on the tactical display and one eye on the chronometer as the seconds ticked by. They had to time this just right, or the effect would be lost.

The last second for his cue ticked by.

"Begin transmitting now," he ordered.

"Life is only what we choose to make it..."

* * *

><p><strong>January 3, 2246<strong>

**Drala Fi: Command chamber**

Aeraan had finally gotten his flagship under way, the Drala Fi leading a fleet of anything they could find. The motley groups were forming up with the others that were under way, a combined force which consisted of more than fifty cruisers and escorts with Drala Fi in the lead.

"Tell the lead units to fall back and wait for us to join them," he said. "If they haven't run, it means they've got something planned."

"I cannot, War Leader. The humans are flooding all channels with an open transmission, audio only."

"What? Let us hear it."

The last thing Aeraan expected to hear was music.

"...find the glory we all dream of, and with our love..."

There was another blind of flash of light with the next line.

"We can win!"

* * *

><p><strong>January 3, 2246<strong>

**SDF-22 Vindicator: Bridge**

Cdre Thomas Espinoza watched dispassionately as the defold operation completed, depositing SDFG-22 right in front of the lead Minbari ships, too close for them to break off.

"...the battle goes on, we feel stronger..."

"Launch all fighters," he ordered. "All ships, weapons free."

"...how much longer...?"

From the SDF-22 herself and her attendent escorts, heavy cruisers and cruisers alike, particle lasers lanced out and unleashed their fury on the makeshift battle group confronting them. Thick beams slicing inexorably through crystalline armor and metal framework alike, what Earth's warbook identified as Shark-class frigates and even the new heavily-armored cruisers the task force were now tentatively naming Humpback-class armored cruisers came apart under the bombardment, their hulls rent apart or dissolved by the relentless weapons fire. Ship-to-ship missiles swarmed out from the numerous missile bays spread across the vessels of SDFG-22, and from the Olympus-class corvettes, railguns thundered silently in the vacuum of space, sending meter-long tungsten carbide darts crashing into the Minbari ships.

"...every day we dream of winning..."

The Artemis-class escort frigates raced into the thick of the battle, their interceptors blazing, cutting down Fencers and shooting down incoming fusion blasts alike, their own missile bays following up on the larger vessels' salvos. Any attempt to swarm the Earth ships was doomed to failure, even with the Minbari stealth, as the most sophisticated interceptors and point defense systems, built on experience against an enemy that outnumbered anything the Minbari could put together by a factor of ten, allowed the frigates to cut down Fencers by the score.

"...a new life..."

* * *

><p><strong>January 3, 2246<strong>

**Skull 21**

Jeffrey Sinclair took a deep breath as his fighter was hurled out into space, his veritech armed for war and a with a pilot more than willing to destroy the enemy in any way possible. Within seconds, he was forming up with the rest of the Skulls, the newest incarnation of the Spacy's most famous and decorated veritech squadron.

"...must fight or face defeat..."

"All right, Skulls," Taylor's voice came over the frequency-hopping squad channel, "enemy fighter cover has been suppressed, but we've been tasked with taking out anything that's left. Ladies and gents... let's plow the road."

"...must stand tall and not retreat..."

As flights, the veritechs waited until they were close enough to get visual tracking locks, then unleashed a volley of Switchblades, the multiple guidance systems of the advanced anti-mecha missiles made the Fencers little more than flying targets. With incredibly sharp course corrections made possible by the trio of powerful maneuvering thrusters encircling its fuselage just behind the warhead, the Switchblades doggedly pursued their prey. The enemy Shark frigates, however, unleashed a barrage of covering fire that aided the Fencers' evasion, shooting down some of the Switchblades and forcing the human fighters to break off their attack runs.

"...with our strength, we'll find the might..."

Jeff depressed the trigger as one of the Fencers flashed past him, in his crosshairs for perhaps half a second as his quick reflexes unleashed particle beams into the flank of the Minbari fighter. A glancing hit only. Around him, the two forces interpenetrated, the elegant formations rapidly devolving into a chaotic furball as counterfire erupted from the Earth ships behind them, targeting the Sharks. With a pull of a lever, he reconfigured into guardian mode, reoriented his veritech, then pulled another lever, returning to fighter mode, having completely reversed his orientation. Firing his thrusters up to maximum, he pursued his target.

"...no fight we can't fight, together..."

Pressing his lips together, Sinclair fired again, particle beams reaching out through the void and stitching a tattoo up the rear of the fencer, blasting the so-called "puke fighter" to pieces. Shifting into battloid mode, he twisted and trap shot another Fencer, then unleashed a salvo of Mako all-purpose missiles at two more, forcing them into Skull 22's crosshairs, before charging a third.

"We can win!"

* * *

><p><strong>January 3, 2246<strong>

**SDF-22 Vindicator: Bridge**

"...strong hearts that beat as one, watch us soar..."

"Pinpoint barriers to the bow," Espinoza ordered as the SDF-22 flew through the expanding gases that used to be the lead Minbari group. "Ready reflex cannons."

"...we'll win this battle..."

Aboard the massive vessel, the main reflex furnace peaked at its maximum capacity, pumping energy through miles upon miles of conduit as the bow of the ship split apart twice, first dividing the port from starboard, until they too separated up and down. Every ship within the system focused their attention on the energy levels coming from the Vindicator. With her Shadow cloak deactivated and barriers clear, there was nothing to stop the humans and Minbari both from reading the build up. The two sets of twin booms which now made up the bow of the warship glowed brightly as the pinpoint barriers flared with the power of the twin reflex cannons.

"We will win!"

"Reflex cannons ready!"

"We still do not have accurate targeting data on the second group, sir."

"We don't need it," he reminded the sensor operator.

"We must win!"

"Fire!"

"We **will** win!"

* * *

><p><strong>January 3, 2246<strong>

**Drala Fi: Command chamber**

"War Leader, new enemy signals have appeared. Ten thousand kilometers and closing."

"Identify."

"The majority of the ships are unfamiliar... one vessel is far larger than anything we have seen before."

Aeraan looked at the new ships with concern. Nine unfamiliar ships had crippled the shipyards and killed over a hundred thousand warriors and workers. Their own stealth had made it all but impossible to see them, preventing weapons locks or decent silhouettes of the Earther craft. Now, a ship more than ten times the mass of the tiny weapon-ships had arrived. He gasped as the newcomers opened up on the closest of the defense groups.

Sharlins vaporized as they were shattered by missiles and energy cannons both, the escorts likewise taken out of the equation by the smaller human ships. The destruction was total as the last of the ships went down to overwhelming firepower. Neither side could see their enemy until they were at virtually point-blank range, and it seemed the humans were well-versed in overwhelming firepower up close. The Alyt frowned as the massive ship began to reorient itself towards his forces. The range was too far for anything bar a missile bombardment to hit them... unless...

"All ships, break formation!" Aeraan barked as soon as the comm channels were clear. "Evasive maneuvers!"

"Alyt?"

"**Now!**"

Aeraan could only watch as twin beams of raw destruction, unleashed from the huge human warship, swept across the makeshift battle group even as the ships attempted to dodge. Dozens of meters across, the beams sliced through the disintegrating formation with ease, burning down ship after ship as if they weren't even there, passing through one then another without ceasing. Powerful enough to flay the lesser ships from proximity alone, the beams still battered at and stressed the armor of those ships that managed to avoid direct contact, including Drala Fi.

After several long seconds, the beams faded. Aeraan looked around at his crew, several were on the ground, having been thrown around by the close range of the enemy attack and the desperate maneuvers used to avoid certain death. Others were trying desperately to bring the ship back under control, and none dared to look at the destruction the humans had rent onto the defense fleet.

Where dozens of ships had formed up, now a bare handful of damaged and crippled ships remained. Several of the largest Sharlins and Shargotis had survived intact and were reorienting themselves. The surviving lesser ships were melted and cracked, the immense power of the human weapons having turned their hulls into little more than melted crystal and scorched metal. Anything that had been directly in the paths of the weapons had simply disappeared, their atoms scattered to the stellar winds.

"What are the humans doing now?" he demanded of his sensor operator.

"They appear to be launching missiles, but they're not moving into attack vectors... wait, detecting gravitational disturbance. They're leaving, War Leader." Flashes of multicolored light appeared around each of the human formations before vanishing, leaving a crippled station and the humbled and tattered remains of the Minbari fleet behind.

"I see," he said, his voice haunted by what he had just witnessed. "It seems the humans have chosen to be merciful today."

* * *

><p><strong>January 3, 2246<strong>

**SDF-22 Vindicator: Bridge**

Espinoza leaned back, relaxing as the telemetry from their gift packages came in. Good. It looked like they were all in place. "Get us out of here," he ordered, and within moments, the fold drives spun up and carried SDFG-22 away from the battlefield and back towards Earth space.

"Transmission from the Alexander, sir. It's the admiral."

"Patch it through," Espinoza said. "Hey, Mike. I think we can call this 'mission accomplished.' We took out two or three times as much tonnage with a fraction of the forces they hit the Rok with."

Fontaine nodded, his face grim. "Maybe, Tom, but we only took out maybe a quarter of their forces here, and we have no idea how many other shipyards of this scale they have."

"We could have done more," the commodore pointed out.

"With what little intel we had?" Fontaine asked rhetorically, shaking his head. "Not a chance. I'm not risking an SDF and almost all our Macbeths on a gamble like that. We have no idea what kind of response fleet they might have."

"Understood."

* * *

><p><strong>January 10, 2246<strong>

**Valen'tha: Grey Council chamber**

The inner chamber of the Grey Council was silent as they replayed the devastation of the human attack on their shipyards: nearly a hundred and fifty thousand Minbari dead; billions of tons of ships, fighters, and shipyards gone; and their long-held belief in the superiority of their technology and the safety of their most powerful systems now well and truly shattered.

No ship in the human inventory had been known to have such incredible firepower as the smallest ships, and nothing less than a First One had ever been believed to carry that of the largest ship. Coupled with the numbers of fighters that the humans were able to cram into even their smallest vessels, and it was clear that the Minbari had underestimated the human forces and had now paid for it with the lives of a great number of their people.

As the enormous command ship fired its twin cannons, the recording ended before they were forced to relive the annihilation of forty-seven ships in a single barrage. The room returned to darkness, and the Nine stood in their positions, a single beam of light illuminating each of them and another over the man standing in their midst. One Satai threw his hood back as he spoke.

"War Leader Aeraan," Coplann intoned, "do you have an explanation for the devastation we just witnessed?"

"I do not, Satai," the Wind Sword leader said, his stance rigidly straight. For the past week, he had been going over everything he had on the battle, trying to understand it, even as his fleet slowly picked away at the blockade mines the human ships had launched just prior to leaving.

"So why have you come before us this day?" Coplann's voice turned curious.

"I am here to inform you of my decision to step down from my position as War Leader," Aeraan said, the words like ash in his mouth. This was something he had to do, both for himself and for the warriors that would continue this fight. "This... this is a war I cannot win. The hands and mind of one more cunning than I must guide our fleet if we are to be victorious."

"What would you do now?" Delenn asked.

"My successor willing, I would relieve Alyt Toroon in his task to raid the human worlds."

"Who would you recommend replace you?" Morann asked. The decision of who to name War Leader and grant control of the fleet to belonged to the Grey Council alone, of course, but the departing Alyt's nomination often carried weight. "Sineval, perhaps? Shakiri?"

"Branmer. Of the Star Riders."

Silence reigned in the Grey Council chamber for a long moment after that. To nominate a warrior from another clan was rare; to nominate one who until recently had not even been a warrior was unheard of. It was, Aeraan knew, the end of his career, for the Wind Swords would see it as a betrayal, and he would lose their support. But his loyalty was to his people before his clan.

He had commanded the fleet flagship for a decade and won virtually every engagement, both in simulation against his peers and in reality against alien raiders. Stepping down from such a position was usually to allow someone to take his place while the Alyt himself rose to further prominence. Since the day Valen had formed the Grey Council, each of the Warrior Caste Satai had ascended from commanding the flagship of one of the major fleets, and Aeraan would have been expected to do the same once it was his time. By turning his back on his clan, he was sacrificing any chance he had of becoming one of the Nine.

He could accept that.

* * *

><p>Author's Postscript:<p>

And Earth steps up the stakes again.


	12. Chapter 12

Title: Jumping at Shadows (12/?)

Author: Cyclone

Feedback: Please be gentle.

Distribution: Gimme credit and a link.

Rating: Nothing worse than on the shows, except maybe language.

Spoilers: After the end of one and before the beginning of the other.

Disclaimer: The characters depicted herein belong to other people. I'm just borrowing them for a while.

Summary: First contact between the United Earth Alliance and the Minbari Federation goes horribly wrong.

Author's Note: Again, thanks to Ash's Boomstick for basically writing the Centauri scene.

* * *

><p><strong>January 12, 2246<strong>

**Trade station, Comac 4 orbit: The Star Bar**

Ever since the war broke out, news of it spread like wildfire across known space. The mysterious, aloof warriors who, legend held, had fought off the terrifyingly powerful Shadows a thousand years ago against the odd newcomers who had utterly crushed the Dilgar, then extended a hand of mercy to them. The League worlds owed their lives to both sides of the Earth-Minbari War and paid avid attention to it.

Comac 4 was no exception.

Saphak drummed his fingers on the table as he waited in the bar. The Brakiri businessman was here for an informal meeting to touch base with one of Ak-Habil's clients. With the uncertainty of war, business was booming. There were even rumors the Drazi were planning to send a fleet to aid the humans. Given who he was waiting on, it appeared those rumors had some weight to them.

"Ah, Karzon!" Saphak said cheerfully as he rose to greet his client. "A pleasure to see you again."

"Sorry for being late," the Drazi said, returning the greeting. "Some last minute changes from my superiors."

Saphak frowned. "Nothing too severe, I hope." The Drazi had ramped up warship production and needed a vast laundry list of vital components.

"We'll take half the original order," Karzon said, almost apologetic.

"Ah," Saphak said, hiding his disappointment. Half was the minimum purchase as per the contract already signed in order to avoid triggering the breach of contract clauses; it was enough to cover Ak-Habil's expenses for the order but not much more. "I had heard the Drazi would be sending a fleet to assist the humans. Was I misinformed?"

"The humans insisted we stay out of this war," Karzon answered, clearly dissatisfied, "and with their latest victory, it would seem they have the Minbari well in hand."

"What victory?" Saphak had heard rumors, of course, of a devastating blow to one of the Minbari's major colonies, but those were just whispers in the wind.

"Ha! Just watch," the Drazi said, pointing to a monitor over the bar. "The humans just gave the press official confirmation. The news should be breaking soon."

The Brakiri watched as the "breaking news" interrupted the rather insipid program. His eyes widened as they cut to the footage of the devastation wreaked on the Minbari shipyards. There was a moment of silence, broken as a ragged cheer erupted, mostly from one large table occupied by a Balosian tramp freighter crew.

Gears turned in his head as he considered how this was going to affect the Brakiri Stock Exchange and, in turn, the balance of power in the Krona.

* * *

><p><strong>January 14, 2246<strong>

**Imperial Palace, Centauri Prime: Centaurum chamber**

"Don't be a fool, Refa!" shouted Londo Mollari, Centauri ambassador to the United Earth Alliance. Londo had been recalled due to the war that promised to shake the galaxy to its foundations, his knowledge of the humans and their empire was unsurpassed by anyone within the Centauri Republic outside the Centauri Secret Service. "The Narns have ingratiated themselves with the humans. If we attack them now, the humans will take offense."

"Which is why we must strike now, while the humans are occupied," Refa responded reasonably, his silky smooth voice turning on the charm. "Once the war is over, the outcome will already be decided."

"And leave us weak when the humans turn their ire to us. The humans will-"

"What, Mollari?" Refa interrupted. "What will they do? Will they seek to avenge a race already lost?

"**Yes!** You do not know humans like I do. They seem a most forgiving people, but they can nurse a grudge like a newborn infant over the strangest things, most especially betrayal or attacking their friends. Look at what they did to the Dilgar."

"You yourself said the humans lack confidence in this war. That this is a fair fight."

"Between Earth and Minbar, yes, it is a very fair fight," Londo replied mockingly, "and if they fought alone, neither would win this war, and the rest of the galaxy would then swoop down like pak'ma'ra to pick over the remains." He shook his head. "But they are not alone, Lord Refa. The humans have **turned down** a Drazi battle fleet, a force of a size capable of facing one of our own border fleets. They have half a dozen races with technology equal to their own on the far side of the galaxy just waiting to join the fight. The Minbari have no one, and that why they will lose."

"So you would have us curry favor with the humans, then? Follow the **Narn** example?"

"No. The humans will win this war, but the humans are merciful, even to their enemies. The Minbari are not. They will remember. This war is no business of ours, and we should keep it that way."

"Gentlemen, silence," a voice boomed from a guardsman as the Emperor gestured. "Your Majesty."

"Thank you, Centurion." The Emperor looked up at the group surrounding him, the war between the humans and their Minbari enemies at the forefront of his mind. "This is a vexing conundrum, my friends."

"Indeed, Your Majesty," they agreed.

"Urza, old friend, the humans. Can they succeed where so many others have failed and fallen?"

"In all honesty, my Emperor, the humans are as much an unknown to the galaxy at large as the Minbari have always been. Their technology, their numbers, even their doctrine during combat is as mysterious now as it was to us when we initiated first contact," Jaddo explained. "The humans almost alone were capable of destroying the Dilgar war machine and fending off several attacks from the Narn and others, and their losses were infinitesimal compared to the vessels used.

"But the Minbari have remained undefeated for a thousand years and have been amongst the stars for many years before that, the humans less than two hundred and fifty years if they are telling the truth." The Emperor looked out the window and across Imperial Centre.

"Even at the height of our power, we never pushed the Minbari into conflict," Malachi, the emperor's most trusted advisor counselled. "Lord Jaddo is correct in his view of the humans, but the Minbari are a dangerous enemy and one that no one in two hundred years has even tried to do battle against."

"Yes, I am aware. The humans say that the Minbari attacked and murdered their people for nothing. The Minbari claim that the humans are responsible for the death of their leader in an unprovoked attack on their flagship."

The Centaurum had sent representatives to both the humans and Minbari as to the reasoning behind their war, and both had politely requested that the Centauri stay out of the war and that the "incident" was wholly the fault of the other side. What little could be accessed or smuggled out pointed towards the Minbari somehow destroying a larger human ship while other footage showed the humans firing through the Minbari stealth and crippling several Minbari ships.

Now the decision before them was what to do now. Several races had approached either the humans or the Minbari and offered their aid, drawing invisible battle lines throughout the Orion Arm, even though each of the offers had been politely but firmly declined, much to the chagrin of those races and the relief of the Centauri. With the Narn and Drazi offering their help, the humans could and very likely would come in on the side of their allies should the Centauri decide to destroy them.

Turhan sighed silently as he turned to his advisors. "The humans will win this war; they are unlike any other race in the area. My last meeting with Lord Mollari and the latest briefings from the CSS have allowed me to realize just what a dangerous time we live in. We have been allies with the humans even after the foolish debacle that came with our first contact, and now, they face an enemy that they neither fear nor hate. Unlike the rest of us, they will fight until they do not wish to. The Dilgar, the Ch'lonas, and the Vree have found themselves on the very wrong side of an angry Earth, and I do not wish for our people to face that kind of threat."

"We can not allow either the Narn or the Drazi to become allied to the humans!" Refa exclaimed before remembering himself. "My apologies, Your Majesty. We cannot allow our enemies to become complacent with their inevitable assistance from the humans, yet we cannot allow ourselves to enter this war on humans' side."

"We cannot simply sit and wait for the end of the war," Jaddo shot back. "Either race may look to us and wonder why we would not assist them during their time of need."

"The Minbari will turn their eyes on anyone who they see as having helped the humans with the war, and when that happens, the rest of the galaxy will look on and stay out of that battle," Mollari argued. "We have already washed our hands of this war. Let that decision stand."

"The Narn will make the most of the Minbari attack and try something themselves. The humans are powerful, but I do not believe for a moment that the Earth Alliance will continue to frustrate the efforts of the Minbari. So I offer a compromise: When the humans begin to lose the war and are forced back, we then strike at the Narn and remove them from our borders and from existence." Refa smirked. "They will have no allies and no chance at survival; it will force the other lesser races to notice our power and to think twice about trying to force conflict with the Republic."

"If... **if** the Minbari are victorious, but what if they are not?" Mollari countered. "The humans have caused more damage on a wider scale, and the Minbari have no defence against their strange faster than light drive or their energy barriers. If the **humans** win this war, then the Narn and the Drazi will have their thanks and their protection... gods, they very possibly already do. We attack either, and we will face a two-front war against enemies that we could do without."

"Then what should we do?" Refa snarled. "Follow the Brakiri example and sell our wares and our skills to the highest bidder? Or scrabble for the few scraps of technology that we can gain through an alliance like the Narn? Is that what you want the Republic to become, Londo?"

"No, but I do not want to see the Republic fall under the heels of either the Minbari or the humans; this war is between them and their allies. The time for us will be after the war; both sides will require resources to rebuild and financial assistance from outside. **That** is the time that we will strike; the Republic is in no condition to fight a war against anyone short of an isolated Narn, so we shall fight the peace, with words instead of weapons. If we are able to help both sides with reconstruction, then we will be in a better position than anyone else to reap the rewards."

Malachi looked thoughtful. "Several of the battlefields we know of are close to or may come close to our space. If some of their ship debris were to fall through our borders, we would be within our rights to salvage them. If necessary, we might... arrange... for that to happen."

"It is a risk, but possibly one worth looking at," Turhan allowed.

"Both human and Minbari technology is beyond our own," Refa said, pressing the matter. "The latest CSS reports from the Narn research facility at Bor'Goth indicate they have somehow managed to obtain a nearly intact human Shadowfury. We cannot allow them to gain that edge."

"We will **not** go to war with the Narn," the Emperor declared firmly, putting his proverbial foot down. "We will make every attempt to salvage what we can, prevent a technology gap from disturbing the balance of power." He rose from his throne. "I will not end my reign with the destruction of my people by interfering in a war that is no business of ours. Both sides have requested we stay out of it, and I see no reason to interfere where we are not wanted. Should that change, should either side ask us to join the battle, then we will have to consider it very carefully, but until then, this war is not ours."

Both the Minbari and humans would take the fight to the very homeworlds, Turhan knew, their weapons capable of annihilating all life on the surface of a world or turning the surface from solid into molten rock in minutes. He could not allow that to happen to the Republic; they had made many mistakes over the centuries, and even now, still paid for them. He would not add to that debt of blood.

* * *

><p><strong>January 18, 2246<strong>

**Imperial Centre, Centauri Prime: Outskirts**

"Yes, I believe the Emperor is quite serious. He has refused to send any help, even humanitarian aid, into human or Minbari space."

"Excellent. Continue to inform us of anything that may be of use. We have to stop this war before it goes too far."

"We live for the one. We die for the one."

* * *

><p><strong>January 18, 2246<strong>

**Imperial Centre, Centauri Prime: Outskirts**

"Word just got in. The Centauri will be keeping their noses out of the war."

"Good to hear. Last thing we need is someone else jumping in on either side. Keep me informed. I'll pass this on to Earthdome."

* * *

><p><strong>January 23, 2246<strong>

**Robotech Military Academy, Mars: Parade ground**

"Welcome to the First Alien Volunteer Group," the dark-skinned human said, pacing in front of the crowd of Dilgar standing at attention. "I am Colonel Tyler Grant of the Earth Foreign Legion, and I want to make a few things clear. **This** is not the Foreign Legion. This is a temporary unit. You will **not** be earning citizenship in the United Earth Alliance for your service in this unit. You **will**, however, be fairly compensated, you **will** be on the sharp end of this war, and you **will** get to fly the deadliest fighter in known space. If you have a problem with any of that, this is your last chance to walk away."

He stopped and turned, settling into an at ease posture to survey the crowd. No one moved. He gave a sinister smile.

"Good. Welcome to hell."

* * *

><p><strong>February 2, 2246<strong>

**Valen'tha: Hallway**

Satai Delenn slowed to a stop as she walked past her late mentor's chambers. She could hear something...

"...why can we not tell them...?"

Delenn frowned and keyed entry into the room. She recognized the voice. Dukhat had been dead for months, but while they continued this crusade in his name, it did not feel right to clear his room yet. It felt too much like they would be... intruding.

"Lenonn?" she called. "What are you doing here?"

The Anla'shok Na turned in surprise. "Ah, Satai Delenn. I was seeing what I could find to help us prepare for the war."

"The war has already begun, Lenonn. The humans have devastated us, slaughtered thousands of our people, tore out our heart and soul."

The Ranger looked kindly upon the tired and frail-looking woman. She had seen far too much far too quickly for one so young. Walking to her, he had her sit down next to him. Dukhat had made a both a good and a terrible choice in his successor, one who could undo everything he and his forebears had worked a thousand years for. "I do not mean this war, Delenn, not at all. **This** war is but a shadow of the one to come."

"And what have you found?" she asked.

"That this war is a crucible, Delenn," Lenonn said gravely. "The warriors who are unfit to fight the Shadows will die, and the warriors who are victorious will be better prepared for that war."

* * *

><p>Author's Postscript:<p>

A bit of downtime. This war isn't being fought in a vacuum. Except literally.


End file.
